The Happy Family
by TriggerHappy Maniac
Summary: Updated chapt 7! After the Explosion, Brad Crawford is looking for his family, but how is he going to explain Schwarz? How are the almighty assassins reacting to subterfuge? And for Brad, going home is the most dangerous thing he can do!
1. Chapter 1 Why You Should Never Tell Lies

The Happy Family  
By Triggerhappy Maniac  
+A Weibf Kreuz Fanfiction+  
  
Author's Note: I dunno how the heck I thought of THIS but hell, it's better than writing a full-blow Yaoi fic. ( In example, SOME people do NOT like M/M So we'll just have to change it to F/M, ne?). This thingy here is supposed to have plenty 'o plot, as Farfie mightsay, but heck, don't get yer hopes up everybody. A humourous fic, no doubt.   
  
Summary: Brad lied to his adoptive family ( mom and dad and etc ) and now he would have to bring his 'family' ( Schwarz in disguise hahaha--)all the way to America to prove it. And what if the one who was your 'wife' had a secret to wreck your lovelife?Ahh... the complications of judging by appearance and why lies, black and white, always hurt, no?   
  
Pairings: ( well ain't this a party pooper...) Intended to be a Brad and Schu Schu... Let me know if anybody want something more interesting. ( by the way...email's "triggerhapinessisavirtue@hotmail.com"...go figure.) I SAID: THIS IS A STRAIGHT FIC.  
  
REQUESTS ANYONE?: I've got a question for any reader... What the hell does "flaming" mean... I've seen it around a bit on other people's fics but I have no idea what it means... No, I don't like gasoline...  
  
please note: PMS= post mentrual stress ( Yeah, Yeah, this is too much information for guys... You get cramps, nightmares and bad days. Poor Schuschu. Hahaha.Haha.Ha. uh, hnm... )  
*-crap-* = Thinking happy thoughts.....or not.  
*-crap-* = German mind speak... same as thoughts. You're smart enough to figure out which is which for yourself.  
  
  
Chapter One: Meet the Parents ( aka Why You Should Never Tell Lies)  
  
  
They made up their minds  
And they started packing  
They left before the sun came up that day  
An exit to eternal summer slacking  
But where would they go?, Without ever even knowing the way?  
  
By Blur  
  
  
  
Hacking into a swiss bank account was no easy thing. Multiple security blocks made even the most experienced hackers sweat in their seats. Which was why Brad Crawford absolutely refused to let Nagi anywhere near his PERSONAL laptop, which made the sixteen-year-old stomp to his room in a huff, sulking like a rejected child, after Crawford forbidden him to hack into THEIR personal accounts at the bank.  
  
*Oh, A-MA-ZING. Braddy even calls himself Crawford...*  
  
Damn! He shouldn't have let that thought slip out. He steeled himself and forced his mental shields up even higher. Unceremoniously booting the German out of his snicker spot in his mind and back to reality.   
  
" Well that wasn't very nice of you Braa-dley," The fiery-haired German slinked into the room in his tight black leather outfit, pausing momentarily at the dark doorframe. " I don't suppose you can spare some time for me, mhn?"  
  
" You're right, I can't" Clackity-clack went the keyboard, sounding like a maniac buzz.  
  
The german looked around in the room, walking with slow relaxed steps around the 'workroom', tredding softly on the dark carpet. He stopped before Crawford's desk. Sliding seductively onto the paperwork covered ebony desk, he leaned over the screen of the laptop, blocking the light. He sighed," Bradley, brad, brad..."  
Damn him!! It was hard enough to concentrate WITHOUT the...bas-- the...redhead around. The pseudo-Brad in his mind was barely keeping his anger in check.The German kept up a constant strem of vists to his office now and then. Can't he ever figure out that Crawford was no homosexual sometime? The redhead rummaged throught the mess on the desk. " My , my what do we have here...accounts" he rummaged through another pile.   
  
" Accounts,"  
  
And another.  
  
" Accounts... HELL Bradley!? Is this all that you do all day in here?!!!?!!"  
  
" Yess..." Brad hissed. " Now would you put my paperwork back in order? "  
  
Brad was hoping, HOPING that he wouldn't look over the screen again. He treasured his privacy more than anyhting. No,no, no..no... Schuldich moved over again, blocking the sterile white light once more..." Well, then, let's take a look at what you're doin', Ne? " He traced the outline of Brad's jaw seductively with the tip of a finger.   
Brad moved in a shocking split-second movement, bodily shoving the redhead off the desk, before he could react, and PAINFULLY onto the dark carpet on the floor.  
  
"OOF! BRADLEEEY!!!???"  
  
" Now get out. NOW!" Brad swung his enraged glare over to the door, gesturing furiously." I MEAN IT!!!" He gone too far, this time. He hated ANY physical contact with anybody!  
  
" And what if I DON'T?!?" Those dreaded jade eyes hardened at him in anger.  
  
* I'LL PREDICT YOUR DEATH! NOW GET OUT!!!*Crawford's his mind voice was a roar, his glare icy.  
  
" FINE!!!" The german raged out the door , slamming it with a massive BLAM!  
  
ARGGH. What have you done again... Brad Crawford...? you know that times are bad enough...and you just have to make it worse.... Brad rubbed his temples. Schwarz was having a tense time with Esset gone. He could not afford to let anybody discover their existance, much less the bloodhounds of Kritiker.Brad strightened in his seat and heaved a sigh, his thoughts returning to his work. Of tranferring some money to that of a family called Crawford.   
  
He snorted. Too bad for the redhead. He had to poke his nose in just too far.  
  
*********  
  
" DAAAMN HIM!!!!!" BLAM!  
  
Nagi winced as the breakfast table jolted under his telekinetic hold, plates and cutlery jingling momentarily. These incidents have been coming in more frequently. He bit into a piece of toast.  
  
Farfello did not say anything, only to stare wide-eyed at the raging redhead storming down the staircase, his set of cleanly-licked knives on the table slightly out of position from the first jolt.  
  
*********  
  
Schuldich was FURIOUS. * How dare he?! How DARE he?!* He let out a scream, " DAAAMN HIM!!!!!" Why would *HE* not respond to his advances?! Was he a total icicle without any hormones at all? Or was it because he had a stick waaaay up his ass?   
The redhead paused on the staircase, his anger momentarily forgotten. * May...Maybe he found out?* Horror began to set in * No! There was no way possible that he could EVER find out!? But...If he knew that the German was a freak-- * No! I'm not a freak!* There was no reason at all for the American to shun him... He hated the feelings of self-doubt; he absolutely despised them. The redhead snorted, " Hrmph...", dismissing his thoughts. And stomped his way down to the kitchen below.  
  
***  
  
" Everybody repeat after me: BRADLEY-CRAWFORD-IS-A-BIG-FAT-ASSS!!!!" (Nagi: Brad0Crawfordisabigfatass...)Schuldich yanked a chair out violently, seating himself at the wooden table. He was silent for a moment , burying his head in his arms, seemingly preoccupied. Then he looked up, at the madman seated peacefully beside him. " Farfie?"  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Why do you stand Crawford?" Nagi nearly choked on his toast, a warning signal that the telepath was DEFINITELY not happy. Schuldich ALWAYS called Crawford Bradley, not Crawford. (eh?)  
  
The German rested his head on his folded elbows, his shock of red hair sprawling across the table. He waited for his answer.  
  
The Irishmen rolled his golden eye suspiciously at him." God hates PMS. Crawford has PMS." Farfello growled, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
THAT WAS IT! Nagi spewed his breakfast, choking hard. The pieces flew midway across the table, suddenly freezing in their trajectory right in front of the two other members of Schwarz. Farfello blinked once at the levitating pieces of food, then speared a piece of toast floating inches from his face. The German's laughter rang mentally throughout the house.  
  
***  
Crawford grumbled in his office. What the hell are they doing down there?!  
  
* Braddy-baby! Farfie says you have PMS!* The German's laughter rang cheekily in his mind.  
  
Brad Crawford blinked.  
  
***  
The German wheezed as he stumbled away from the table. Farfello proceeded to flick Nagi's former breakfast back at him with the tip of his knife. The toast caught Nagi unprepared, on the forehead with a wet SPLOT! Farfie began to chuckle but ducked in time when the telekinetic hurled the rest of the breakfast at him. Deprived of a target, the breakfast sped past Farfello's head, to the nearest victim. Schuldich, presently out of action, moved his hair out of his face, to get a better look at the accident scene---just in time to catch a bit of egg. Nagi winced. *Uh oh...*   
  
" ARRRRRGH!!!! I WILL GET MY REVENGE!!!"  
  
" FOOOOD FIIIIIGHT!!!!"  
  
The air was filled with maniacal laughter--mainly from Farfie and Schuldich.   
  
Nagi was too busy gathering ammunition.  
  
***  
  
Research, research. Research was everything. Their survival, their warning, an electronic view of the possible future. The painful bright light reflected off Crawford glasses, hiding his eyes. A muffled thump down the hallway outside, distracted him for a moment before he turned back to his work.  
  
I am surrounded by idiots.  
  
A chirpy beep from his computer drew his attention to the side of the screen. Ah. Somebody just attempted to access their information, carelessly setting off one of Crawford's carefully placed security trips.  
  
Must be Kritiker again.  
  
The network on whick he was working was getting highly unstable. He would have to create another alternate soon.   
  
*The wolves are closing in again aren't they, Brad?* Brad sighed as the German's voice sounded through his head. Germans seemed to be a quick-forgiving people. * He must have forgotten the incidence this morning...* " Yesss..." he relaxed into his high-backed chair. " We must move again soon..."  
  
* What's wrong with this place? It's rather secure in here ain't it. And nobody sane would try to break and enter if they knew what was inside* The redhead's Chershire Cat grin could actually be HEARD.  
  
He sighed again, " Mastermind, humans aren't all invincible you know, "  
  
*But, hey, we aren't your everyday workhour humans--Except for you maybe.*  
  
" A fact of which I'm greatly relieved, indeed, comrade."  
  
* You don't have to talk to me as if I'm a Nazi. It's insulting.*  
  
Crawford stretched his arms out for a bit." By the way, is there something else you would like to talk about? I'm pretty sure you didn't come knocking at my sanity's door just to have a chat about our business."  
  
The German seemed to be distracted for a moment. There seemed to be whispered conversations in the background, as if he was discussing something...* Umm, do you mind if I fetch Nagi to school, today I mean, I need to get something on the way.* Mental foot shuffle.  
  
" Why so helpful all of a sudden? Finally trying to earn your keep around here?" The American's voice a mite sacarstic as he spoke to the empty room. Actually he was relieved at the prospect of not having to fetch the telekinetic to school for once in the long list of days.  
  
* Uh, I just need to get some fresh air, that's all. I'm taking my bike out for a spin.* Another mental foot shuffle.  
  
Crawford sat up again, his eyes once again focusing on the screen before him." Very well then," He sighed dramatically, brushing his brown hair back in a flourish.  
  
There were sounds of scrambling, hushed whisperings from the floor below and the front door being slammed.  
  
* And, oh, I nearly forgot. Braddy, you might want to take a look at your livingroom.We'regoingtogetsomecarpetcleansersodon'tyouworrywe'llbebackinajiffy.* He could almost see the telepath grab his bike, haul Nagi on it and speed his escape down the street.  
  
* WHAT THE HELL?!!?!*  
  
Schuldich could hear the American through the six inch steel-plated walls. He laughed with glee.  
  
" SCHUUUUUULDIIICH!!!!!!!!"  
  
***  
  
Schuldich smirked as he sped down the highway, with poor Nagi clinging to him for dear life.His brilliantly red hair blew back, catching the morning sunlight. Unfortunately blocking a particular telekinetic's view.  
Nagi's voice was muffled by the helment he wore."How come I have to wear the helmet and you don't?" The sacarstic remark was lost in the roar of the wind and the thrum of the bikes motor.  
"Whaaa-aat? I can't hear you--" * Is THIS much better?* Schuldich cocked his head to one side, keeping his eyes on the busy road. " Yeah, much better indeed..." Nagi grumbled.* Why the hell can't we take the subway for once?*  
" We needed an excuse to get us out of the house," the German yelled over the wind.  
" Correction: YOU needed an excuse to get out of the house,"  
" Hey, you started it,"  
" Hey, YOU said the Crawford had PMS,"  
" That was Farfie," Schuldich frowned for a moment," Are we supposed to take that exit over there?"  
"YEEESSS!? YOU'RE GOING TO MISS IT!!!!"( the exit was six lanes to the RIGHT. Schu and Nagi are six lanes to the LEFT.)  
" Whoops, HOLD ON!" The black Harley swerved violently, nearly coming in contact with the nearest car, only to lag back a bit to dodge it.SCREEEEEE----!!! his brakes screamed in protest. He cut his speed suddenly, making a sharp turn to avoid another oncoming car, almost being hit by a cursing driver; " HELL WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU KIDS?!". He sped up again, swinging the bike in a half circle, screeching across the six lanes, just to enter the exit in perfect form.   
(Leaving a myriad of burn marks across the highway behind them.)  
  
Nagi was swearing that he'll never set foot on a vehicle again. He began to squeeze the life out of the German, clenching his waist tightly. The German's blew back into his face with the force of the wind.  
* Well, that was FUN, don't you think Naggles?*  
  
Nagi was too traumatised to reply.  
  
* Ugh! Don't squeeze so tight! I don't need a slimmer waistline! If I wanted professional theraphy I wouldn't want it on a bike! Heey! I can't breathe!*   
  
***  
" Have fun, Chibi!" The German commented. Nagi stumbled of the bike in shock, yanking off the oppressive helmet with relief. He could almost the fall to his knees and kiss the sweet, sweet earth... The other students walking through the school gate looked at him strangely. *THANKGODTHANKGODTHANKGOD--*  
Schuldich chuckled at the thoughts radiating off the brown-haired bishonen.  
  
" I'll be here to fetch you back in the evening...Bishounen" He grinned maliciously.  
  
" HELL NOOOO!!!!"  
***  
  
Brad Crawford FINALLY found some time to himself.( not exactly, but Farfie wasn't exactly counted as company) If the livingroom was a price to pay for privacy, he would gladly pay it to keep the NOSY German out of the house...  
  
Not that he liked using the Internet, he just wanted to check something, something VERY important...  
  
*Hmmm... Let's check the email shall we? He logged in and--*  
  
BEEPBEEP " YOU'VE GOT MAIL!" One day he's going to hack into that email engine and put that voice on mute. PERMANENTLY. But even the irritance of the service couldn't dampen the near-excitement he was in.  
  
He scanned through the list of junk mail, for the one he was waiting for.   
And ALMOST dreading.  
He always had trouble keeping that fact that he was still in contact with his adoptive family from Esset, after they abducted him suddenly from his home at the age of nine. He knew that they, his adoptive family, would be used against him and that would put their lives in danger. So he faithfully kept his mouth shut through the long years of training.The last few years were rough, Esset's skill at erasing files and stealing pawns were unsurpassed, even his family thought him dead, murdered as the many missing people throughout the world. He still considered them family though, they had shown him kindness for a short while, around a year or so. He heard that they even wept for him at his funeral. Kindness, a scarce commodity in this existence. Had anyone even noticed the emergence of someone with a name identical to their 'lost son', a name that he had chosen for himself?  
  
When he sent them a message recently that he was alive and well, he waited dubiously for weeks on end for their reply. What would they think of him now? In his message a few white lies wouldn't matter, a well-off businessman in a foreign country, a happy job and family.Whatever to keep them happy.What that matter was that he was still alive...  
  
  
##Sender: Brad Crawford  
Message: Mom! Dad! I've missed you! I'm so sorry I was gone for such a long time, can you both ever forgive me? It's been a rough life, and I keep thinking of you all the time.Business is going well, I've set up shop in Japan and I never had chance to send a message. I'm married now, to a beautiful wife and we have a kid too! I'll send you a picture as soon as possible!We live with her immediate family ( my brother-in-law ) in Tokyo.Can we meet again soon?I'll tell you what happened all these years. I miss you very much.   
Love, Brad.  
  
##Reply: Janice and David Crawford  
Message: Brad! You are alive! We can't believe it!We missed you so much! Our dearest baby, we'll love to see you again!Ooh, we can't wait to tell the family about this! *Brad paled at the thought*We are so glad that you're doing well and you're happy!We can't wait to meet you and your lovely family. In fact, we booked some airplane tickets for you to come back home with your wife, kid and even your brother-in-law, we absolutely must thank them for taking care of you all these years. You must let your child meet the family! We love you very much, can't wait to see you again!  
Love, Mom and Dad.  
  
***  
Crawford smiled as he read the message, an unconcious smile tugging on his lips. *I love you too*So they still thought of him. It felt nice to be--loved. He would have to arrange a flight then---wait---He scrolled down to read the rest of the message.Tap,tap.*booked serveral tickets?...* He read on incredulously *Meet my family?* He blanched. Tap,Tap. He looked at the date of the reply. *Omygod* Then--then--the flight would be two days from now?!  
  
White lies wouldn't hurt, no? He sat ramrod straight in his chair. How the hell was he going to explain all this to them, no family? He swore that he wouldn't let them down. Wait, wait...calm down...*But where the hell am I going to find somebody to pretend to be family?* He blew out breath in frustration.Right now, a telepath, a telekinetic and a madman were not much of use. At all.   
Hmnn...A ghost of an idea appeared in his head. His brown eyes widened.*Hell no no no noo...*   
  
His mind seemed to be saying to him a close mimic of the German's voice; Well, you got yourself into this, Braddy-boy.  
  
***  
  
Schuldich reminded himself to get some pills. Sleeping pills. He was fast running out of those, and the dreams would be coming back along with the time of the month. He winced at a pain in his abdomen. The last time he forgot, he spent literally forty-eight hours in bed, his door locked and (him) screaming. He was thankful that the walls were, indeed, six inch thick and metal plated. At least they were useful in more ways than one. He was very lucky that no one found him out.   
Brad just yelled at him as he tromped haggardly down the stairs *Where have you been?!*. Aha.Ha.Ha. If only he knew. That insensitive jerk.  
  
He watched the kid walk dazedly into the school compound, and tucked the discarded helmet into the case behind his bike. He hated using helmets, they were claustraphobic and irritating. He made the poor kid wear them cause Crawford definitely would not like having his telekinetic's head spread over several meters of road. He watched as the boy moved out of sight, into the large main building. Oh well, no company for the rest of the day... He geared up the Harley and rolled the bike back onto the main road.   
A bird cawed. He looked up at the deep cloudless blue sky overhead. Hmn, today was a good day to be out. He smacked his forehead Oh, yeah, he would have to get carpet cleansers too. The food fight had left the entire living area colorfully covered with ketchup. The image of the telekinetic throwing objects at him came unbidden to his mind. Lucky he tweaked with the boy's aim a little.But man, that boy was resourceful.   
Maybe he should go and bother some Kittens. His smile grew huge on his face and passerbys wondered at the redhaired monster as he sped down the crowded main road toward an unknown destination.  
  
***  
  
Farfello was sitting alone in the messy kitchen playing with his knives, tossing them one by one into the air and watching them thud blade-first into the wooden floor. A good day indeed; he added the chopper from the cupboard into his knife collection.  
He pused for a moment as he heard a loud exasperated sigh from the room above. What was Crawford up to now? He never stayed in his office for this long before coming out to lock him up again. He always foresaw what would become of his furniture if he didn't. One of his many knives ( the chopper) slipped from its balanced rest position on his finger and gouged a small trench on the kitchen floor. His eye narrowed, as he picked up the knife and regarded it carefully. It glinted. Knives could tell the future. He grinned as he licked the knife along the blade gingerly, as if he was afraid to lose it.   
  
Oh yeah, something was going to happen, all right.  
  
***  
  
Youji looked up from the counter as the bell behind the door tinkled, welcoming a potential customer. He looked at the visitor's ankles first. He almost whistled and his eyes widened, man, that was one pretty pair.   
*Gotta be a bishoujo!* His eyes traced the curves of the black-leather clad calves, condemning them to memory. Too bad Aya and Ken were missing out on this TREAT... A voice called from the back room, "Youji-kun! Who is it?"  
" Hold on! I'm busy!" His eyes continued upwards, following the shape of the thighs to a slim tapered tight leathered hips, a pair of slender hands perched poutingly on them. Ohhh...He almost drooled. Many women would kill for a figure like that!   
Man, this lady was tall! Perfect! All the more to look at. Omi rushed out of the room, " Youji-kun stop staring at the customers! We are supposed to serve---" he gaped, stopping in mid-stride, frozen.   
" What?" Youji's eyes travelled further upwards toward the midrift. Shapely indeed! The skin tight black top barely covered the navel, exposing the barest bit of magnificently tempting skin.  
Then he caught sight of flaming silken red hair, made even more threatening by the morning light catching it. Then the familar pair of smirking lips and frighteningly deep emerald eyes--  
" SCHWARZ?!?!" An enemy in their shop?! Youji shook his head violently to clear his mind of the former image.* But hell it looked GOOD!*.  
*Hello Kittens...* The German's accented voice sounded in their heads, dark and sensuous. * You seem to be busy...* The Schwarz member laughed mentally at the look of shock on their faces.  
Omi face became outraged." What the Hell do you want, Schwarz?" He grated, his small fists clenched at his side. The German merely looked at him * I've got some recommendation from several schoolgirls about this shop...I thought maybe I should stop by for some flowers.* The voice in their heads sounded mocking.   
" DON'T YOU DARE HURT THEM!!!" Youji's voice was surprisingly loud and icy in the confines of the shop. Omi looked at him in surprise. The German merely chuckled, a deep rich sound.  
*My,my..., Do you think me such a monster, Weiss?*  
" You are capable of anything!!!" The German chuckled again *I'm here merely for the flowers, 'Youji-kun', under a truce, as one may say. Any recommendations?*  
Youji was incredulous. Schwarz? A truce? He would never live this down...But the German sounded sincere enough... He grabbed his wires from under the paper-covered counter, discreetly arming himself before stepping out from behind it. Omi looked at him in worriedly ,  
" Youji-kun, don't...."  
Youji forced a grin onto his face," Well, don't we have to serve our customers, Omi?" He strode out to meet the German.*How the hell did they survive the the blast?* he wondered, his group had to pull their battered back on shore.  
*Very easily, Kitten. We were planning Esset's death long before you arrived on scene.* Then he said out loud," I'll think I'll have this," He gestured at a pot of tiny scarlet roses that sat on the display in the bright sunshine.  
Youji was shocked. So was Omi. *Planned Esset's destruction? Schwarz?*  
The German looked at them as if they were uncomprehending children. * Did you think that we actually WANTED to work for them? Jeez, you gotta be nuts* He sighed and strode over to the plant in attention and picked it carefully up from it's spot, leaving an outline of soil on the whiteness of the display.   
His mind voice almost whispered * Ever wondered why we never attacked you then? We were literally on the same side...The girl was never of use to us* He laughter rang throughout the shop as he handed the plant to an astonished Youji. Youji looked down at the pot cupped in his hands.  
* World domination is such a ridiculous concept, ne, Kitten?* " Aren't you going to package that up for me ' Youji-kun'?  
The two Weiss members were stunned.  
" Well?" He tapped his foot on the floor of the shop.  
" Uh, hai... Omi," Youji tossed the pot to Omi, who caught it easily and set it gently on the counter. * Tsk,tsk, so rough with such delicate things *  
" Umm...That will be 1000 yen..." The German strode over. Omi looked up as he paid.  
Omi almost blanched, " So..., you're not assassins any longer?"* I can't believe this*  
" Maybe, Kitten, maybe not." He picked up his package, literally cradling it." At least we are free." He walked to the door and pushed open. The bell tinkled again.  
  
* And maybe one day you'll be too. Good Luck, Kittens.*  
  
And the redhaired German called Schuldich made his dramatic escape.   
***  
  
Schuldich was having fun. Well, at least roaming around the megatropolis of Tokyo provided some momentary entertainment. The plant was stowed away carefully in the storage compartment, it's scarlet flowers waving in the wind as he drove. He ABSOLUTELY loved the looks on the Kitten's faces... To bad the red and the football nut weren't there... * Then things would have gotten INTERESTING...*   
* Oh yeah, the carpet cleansers* He stopped by a green-walled petrol station along the highway and bought the aforementioned cleanser and at the same time filling up his gas tank. He gave the shining surface of the Harley a loving rub. He'll have to polish it again soon. He mounted and whistled as he drove back to the headquarters. Strangely, he felt as if he had forgotten something... Oh well, no matter. His stomach ached. His scarlet silken hair billowing in the rush of wind. He turned his attention back to driving, leaving tyre skid marks all over the roads of Tokyo.  
  
***  
" How the Heck am I supposed to break the news to them?!" The American paced across carpet on the floor, his display of nervousness was DEFINITELY un-Crawford-like. Think, THINK, man! He hoped that the telepath had to ability to alter people's perception and save him all the trouble of holding the bluff. He paused. * Nagi would definitely have to be the son, then Farfello the brother-in-law--* He cursed loudly as to how in the WORLD was he going to pull that off.  
Then he frowned. * Then that leaves Schuldich to be the---to be the--* His brain stopped functioning.  
" HELLL!!! I'M GOING TO MAKE HIM DEVELOP THAT SKILL EVEN IF HE DOESN'T HAVE IT!!!"  
  
***  
  
Schuldich arrived back at the base, slowly wheeling his precious bike back into the darkened garage at the side of the building. He slid the nylon covering back over the gleaming body of the bike and gave it pat-- something like a goodnight kiss. He looked around; Brad's car was still there, which meant that he have't gone out. He mused, he'll have to creep in softly in order not to alert anyone... Man, his stomach ached again...  
  
***  
  
Schuldich made his was into the house, silently closing the door behind him. * Hmn.... No one's here....* He grinned.  
* I'M here Red,* The German nearly jumped out of his skin.  
" What?! FARF?"  
" Yep." The Irishman was sitting on the counter cheerfully, tossing his new toy; Mr Chopper.  
The German began to breathe again, " C'mon Farf, help me clean up the mess." The living room/kitchen was still covered with those drying tomato splotches.  
" Shan't." The madman pouted petulantly.  
" Why not?"  
" Messy livingrooms hurt--"  
" I'll let you scrape the wallpaper with your knives---"  
" ' K!" The bane of sanity hopped off his perch, onto a cleaning spree.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
Brad OOGLED at the vision.  
  
___ Nagi was laughing his head off in the livingroom with Farfello behind him. Then seated on the couch was Schuldich with the most peculiar expression on his face--some thing almost like horror--but____   
  
___ Brad was hearing screams from one of the bedrooms on the second floor. * WHO THE HELL WAS SCREAMING?!* He caught a sight of red....almost like blood....* Oh dear, somebody ain't gonna take this very well...* he moved forward into the darkness to see who it was and -----______  
  
" BRAAAAAAAAAD!!!!" Crawford blinked. Somebody was slapping his face lightly. *Who is it...?* The slaps came harder and his already blurry vision was beginning to see blurry spots,  
" ARRRGH! STOP IT!", he caught a slender wrist as it prepared to strike him again.  
" Oh, you're awake, you looked zonked out there for a minute..." He finally registered the voice of the redhead speaking to him.  
" I was out of it?" Brad shooks his head as realisation came. * It looked so real...* He blinked owlishly at the German. He was grinning hugely. " What?"  
" You looked so CUTE there for a moment..." The telepath made a face at him.   
" Ugh...WHAT ELSE?"  
" I cleaned your living room," Crawford looked at him. True, his immaculate leather WAS slightly stained with a bit of red. " Farfie helped a bit."  
Crawford raised an eyebrow, " Are you sure that's not blood? That's the only reason that Farfello would help you, in any terms, "  
Schuldich frowned, " You don't believe me? It's ketchup, anyway." Then his expression changed as he slid a booted foot onto the desk. He grinned, " Wanna taste?"  
" Ugh. No!"  
* Ne? What have you got in here?* The German was in and out of his mind in a blink. Crawford looked outraged....  
" HOW MANY TIMES DID I EVER TELL YOU NOT TO DO THAT?!"  
Now was the German's turn to blink in shock... " Braddy has a family?" He gaped at the angry American behind the desk. " I WANNA SEE 'EM, WANNA SEE 'EM!" He bounced in childlike anticipation jarring Crawford's desk. Thumpathump.  
Brad groaned as he removed his glasses and begun to rub at his eyes. " Ugh. May as well tell you the whole of it then. I was planning of telling the whole group at one shot."  
He shot Schuldich a look, " You understand the whole secrecy of this, no? We--I mean, I-- cannot afford to place them in danger. So, in order to keep them somewhat unaware of my current status, some lies had to be concocted to mislead them."  
" Oooh, naughty Braddy boy. Lies are baaaad, bad things..."  
" You wouldn't believe how bad." He made a face as he continued, " They, my adoptive parents, have inevitable requested to meet my fictionous 'family"--"  
"Wait a moment, hold your horses Braddy-boy, YOU told them you had a FAMILY?!" A serious frown crossed the German's face. " Did Esset know about this?"  
" A far as I'm concerned, no." Brad sighed," I kept it secret thoughout the training and the job."  
" So what's the whole shit of all this?" He looked puzzled.  
Brad could almost deflate himself with the sigh of defeat. " I require people to pose as my 'family' but I absolutely cannot allow any outsider into our group. I cannot trust them at all."  
" Ahhh... Now Schwarz get's to play dollhouse." His expression turned thoughtful.  
Brad blinked in surprise. * Whoah, I thought he'll take it the hardest...* He relaxed for a moment. * Maybe this ain't so bad after all...*   
Schuldich looked at him pointedly." How many members are there in this 'family' of yours?"  
Brad took a moment before replying, " There would be me, of course, then the son or child, the brother-in-law and--and the wife..."  
The German seemed busy scheming, he murmured, " Nagi would have no problem posing as the kid, although he won't like it....... The Farf would have to be the brother-in-law, we have to make alterations to his appearance, you know that?"  
" I planned it out already--" The American seemed slightly unsure.  
" And that would leave me to be the----" The German grabbed Brad by his collar, pulling him up close as he glared daggers into his face, " HELLL! BRAD! WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU THINKING?!" He released the disgruntled American. " OHGOD OHGOD OHGOD WE ARE IN SOOOO MUCH SHIT!!!" He swept his hair back in frustration as he glared again " Any last requests Mister Family-Man?"  
" Uh... We're leaving the day after tommorow...?"  
  
Now the GERMAN'S scream could be heard through the six-inch thick steel-plated walls.   
  
***  
  
  
  
Any last requests? I would like to kill myself please, No,no, handing me the gun would be just fine... Ah, yeah, I would like the AK 47 over there if you wouldn't mind. TO ALL READERS: THE SECOND CHAPTER WILL BE UP IN A DAY OR TWO. WILL BE POSTED UP IN THE AFTERLIFE. Read if you want, review if you don't. Some people who have a life also have something called SKOOL. I don't have a life but that doesn't seem to keep homework from coming...Damn.   
  
Send me a email or two. Helps to get poor soul like mine outta depression and onto the cobbled road of life with a cup of mocha or so. Yeah, I'm too young too drink coffee, talk to the mug man...   
  
I'm down in the dumps and lower. 


	2. Chapter 2 aka Nagi: Don't Pinch the Chee...

The Happy Family  
By Triggerhappy Maniac  
+A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction+ 

Author's Notes: TO ALL PEOPLE OUT THERE ALIVE: COKE IS A GOOD THING. All Ye, Hear Ye, Come forth to watch the freak show of SCHWARZ! Watch Schuldich the Woman, Nagi the Underaged and Farfello the Charming Frenchman. BRADLEY CRAWFORD WILL NEVER LIVE THIS DOWN!!!  
[ps: I LOVE YOU GUYS! My sis just got me a WHOLE pot of mocha. happyhappyhappyhappyhappy. a BIG THANKEW that all reviewers!No longer Depressed and Down! Soo sorry to take such a long time to complete this, cause my computer crashed and erased TWO WHOLE CHAPTERS THAT I WAS GOING TO POST UP THE VERY NEXT DAE! Arg. MochaMochaMocha*]

Chapter Two: Pretty Woman ( a.k.a Brad, I'm Gonna Kill You! )

==Boys and Girls==

Following the Crowd down to Greece  
On holiday  
Take your Chance  
Searching for  
Boys who are Girls   
And Girls who are boys  
Who do Boys like they are Girls  
Who do Girls like they are Boys

By Blur.=========

  
" I'm twelve?", Nagi gaped at the American in front of him. His eyebrow twitched. Schwarz was gathered in the now clean livingroom.  
" Well, it suits you. You are way too small for your age and pretending to be younger will help you get through to the other adults--"  
" I'M FREAKING TWELVE??!!!!" Nagi rose from the couch, screaming at the brown-haired oracle sitting opposite. " DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT SHIT MEANS??!! IT MEANS THAT I HAVE TO SPEND THE REST OF MY *SHORT* LIFE BEING DRESSED UP AND NOOGIED OVER BY *YOUR* FAMILY!!!!" The telekinetic had arrived home to find the other members gathered where they were. * I had SUCH a bad feeling about this...* He sighed, his voice spent.  
* At least you're not a woman, Naggles* The German was sulking on the couch beside Brad, his flaming hair draped past his face, hiding what would most likely be a venomous expression. Farfello was simply resting his elbows against the couch that the boy was sitting.  
" I understand that you may be SLIGHTLY reluctant to embark on this mission--"  
* Congrats, Braddy-Boy, THAT was the understatement of the year...*  
" Yeah..." Nagi settled back into his seat.  
The Farf simply gave an umphf of agreement.  
He ignored them, " but this coincides with the need to move our headquarters--"  
* Into your parent's attic?*  
"--And this would be the perfect cover of our shift."  
Nagi shifted to a comfortable spot, " One question, "  
" What?"  
" Why twelve on the PASSPORT? I don't see why the WHOLE world needs to know that it's official..." The telekinetic's face was still sour.  
Brad sighed as he explained further. " There may be certain authorities looking out for us. Having a young child with us and travelling as a family would allow us through most security checks."  
" Then what Farfie gonna be?" Nagi looked up at the Irishman hovering over him.  
Farfello blinked his golden eye, his attention caught.  
" Um... Farfello would be my brother-in-law..." Brad mused. " We may have to change his appearance a little...He might scare all the little--"  
Farfello stared. If Brad was wise enough, he would have taken this as a hint. ...well, too bad.  
" --No religious spoutings, no visible knives and you would have to act a bit more charming..." Brad, Nagi and Schuldich ( through his hair, because all hair refuses to get out of the way during bad hair days, BAD HAIR! BAD HAIR!) watched cautiously ( and tersely ) for the madman's reaction, ready to run if need be.  
The silvered-haired man took a deep breath, as if to scream. ( The others jerked a little... ) Then he bowed his head a little and let his breath out in a audible whoosh.   
He looked up.   
" It would be my pleasure, Moseiur, " His accent changed although his voice remained essentially the same. A perfect little mocking bow completed the effect. ( He actually seemed sane although a little out of place.) He grinned a wide-toothed grin and he was the Farf again.  
The others stared wide-eyed at him, Nagi was the first to stutter something out.   
" Farfie.. You're...You're..?"  
* FRENCH?* The German gasped.  
" Ah, no, dear Sirs, my psyochologist at Esset was French. I had him for a few years--"  
" What happened to him?"  
"--the French scream the same as everybody else."  
" Oh."   
Nagi shuddered while Brad gathered his thoughts.  
Sculdich simply complained. *Oh goodie! Now we all know we have a schizo in the house...Another one.*  
"That means that Schuldich and Farfello will have to be adopted... I don't think people will accept a natural family comprising of German, French or Irish members....." He looked again at Farfello. He was already having second thoughts about this. Brad, not Farfie.  
" Maybe we'll dye your hair blond, I't'll make you eye less conspicuous."  
Farfie muttered something under his breath. Brad pretended not to notice.   
"Hmn... Now for family history...We'll all just be from an orphanage, which will explain why we all don't look alike, and that we have just 'adopted' as child of age twelve then...."   
*You really didn't need to tell us, we all ALREADY know you're adopted. By force.--*  
Brad pretended not to hear. And did what he usually did best. Change the topic.  
Brad coughed a little before turning to the German beside him. * Schuldich, I need to talk to you in private...*  
* What?* The two other members looked on in interest at the silent thought-conversation going on between the telepath and the other. Nagi mused that it looked like some mime movie with color.   
* You know that you would have to wear some--*  
* Girl clothes, yeah I know,--* An irked voice snapped back.*I'm not even going to look at pink, you know?*  
* No that, I mean, that ,um...* A mental cough.  
* WHAT? Spit it out--*  
* Um.. you know that females have some PARTS that , um, guys don't...?* mental cough-cough.* COUGHCOUGHCOUGH.*  
*Oh god, you can't mean this--*  
* It's already in your room, you have to wear it--*  
*SHIT--*  
The German shot up suddenly from the couch, slightly intimidating as he towered over the other occupants of the living room. " I DON'T BELIEVE THIS!!!" And stormed off.   
Nagi mused that they must have been talking about body parts, from the miffed look on the German's face. It was VERY red.  
Cursing mental insults at the bloody world, the stupid household and a @*&#@*Braddy Crawfish. Brad waited a moment before he heard the door to the telepath's room slam shut.  
_______BAMNM.____________  
He winced as he turned back to the dining table. He found Nagi and the madman staring mercilessly back at him. Nagi still sulked.  
" Explain again why I'M twelve..."

For Brad, the night just got a LOT longer...sigh.

***

Schuldich slammed the door behind him.  
The window frames rattled. His room was dark as it always was, with micellaneous items scattered all over the place. The messed sheet on his bed was slightly depressed as an object rested there. The redhead moved over the floor to the sleeping pad. The latex prosthesis of a chest stared back at him. He picked up the rubber thingy and snorted. Of COURSE Braddy Boy wanted a big-chested partner, but THIS BIG?   
He moved over to the cupboard and grabbed a clean towel (not that clean but clean enough), popping the ridiculously large double d into the wastepaper basket beside the bathroom door. He shut the semi-transparent door behind himself, making sure that it was locked. Hmph. Men.   
He faced the bathroom mirror.  
The flourescent light cast a clean tint to a flame haired elfin figure.  
He pulled off the ludricously bright yellow bandana, dropping it into the sink before him. He shook the full mane of silken hair. And looked up again. The bandana served it's purpose distracting people from the true face that lay below.  
Large deep emerald eyes now dominated the face instead of the bandana, a shock amid the scarlet hair.Considering that this colouring appeared less frequently than not... Schuldich sighed as he shook his hair back, shrugging off his ridiculous green jacket, placing it on a hook on the bathroom wall. He pulled the tank top over his head, hearing some cracks and pops.  
Haven't had a job in a long time. Must be getting stiff. A person listening would have thought he broke his back.  
He watched the figure in the mirror meticulously, the figure now dressed in only a tight pair of leather pants,---and a chest wrap.   
A HA.  
Bet Braddy-boy didn't know THAT!  
He reached backwards to unclip the metal bits along the wrap, wincing as it slowly came off. It peeled off, leaving red marks on the suntanned skin.Hmn....Imagine a Lady in an all-guy assassin group....  
Now he watched a fully (and DEFINITELY)FEMALE figure in the mirror, her curves the kind that any sane woman would die for.The gorgeous woman in the mirror pouted her already full lips, tapping a finger. *Wouldn't Braddy boy be soOoO interested....?* The elfin face was delicate under the scarlet flame of hair. 

  
Which didn't match the absolutely evil look on it.

A Mastermind not only by name ...

**********

Brad Crawford was busy explaining to an exasperated Nagi. Before he could toss him out the window.  
" I'm just saying that--"  
A mental voice drifted through the house.  
*Yo Braddykins~, when we sleep together at your house, do you want me in skimpy leather lingerie or nothing?*  
Brad blanched.  
Nagi snickered.  
Farfello looked thoughtful.

Brad coughed a little to turn their attention to something else.

************  
  
It was a long story about how Schuldich got to be a girl.Female. Femme Fatal. WO-man (WHOAH-man.). But the truth is...  
He was already female in the first place.  
And it was on nights like these that Poor Schus-schu has to go through what all WO-men have to go through.  
Yup, you guessed it. PMS. Not POST-men stress. Not PRE-men stress. It was PRESENT-men stress. Which also meant that all the men in the household also go through a LOT of stress.  
Unfortunately, with the PMS, Schu also has bad dreams. Very bad dreams. Bad enough to make you sleepwalk yourself to the toilet and flush your head-- You get the idea.  
" Shit, I'm out of pills." Schuldich rummaged through the bathroom cupboards, where empty bottles clattered into the sink. Bottles filled with anesthetic, bottles filled with painkillers (he never used them). And an empty bottle that was originally filled with sleeping pills specially reserved for occasions such as this.  
If the others knew this secret (all women need secrets), they would have gladly supplied him with enough sleeping pills to knock him/her out to kingdom come. Which just goes to show how bad Schu can get sometimes.  
He(She) slammed the door-mirror hard enough to jiggle it.  
"Shit, Shit, SHIT!" He stormed out of the bathroom, and landed with a running leap on his bed.It creaked threateningly. So would everything else if Schu jumped on them.  
"SHIIIIIIIT! I FORGOT TO GET THE STUPID PILLS!!!......Wait..." An idea sprung to his head, he moved off the bed(thank god) and hurried out the door, maybe Farfie's room would have some... inspiration.  
What kind of inspiration we do not want to know.  
He hurried down the hallway to the metal door of the Farf. A very nice metal blast door around 5 inches thick.   
Nope he wasn't inside. Good. He could still hear the murmur of conversation downstairs. With splatterings of shouting.The door creaked as Schuldich pushed it open, a stale stench greeting him, *Gods Farf! You gotta clean up your room!*  
*Eh? What are you doing in my room?* Schuldich caught an image of Brad being threatened to be thrown out the window by Nagi. Farfie was egging him on.  
*I want to borrow something, don't tell Braddy...*  
*Tch. Don't touch my knive collection.I added a chopper the other day that--*  
*Yech. Like I want to...I don't want to know what's been there.* He/she heard a bit of conversation. Apparently, Brad could tell when the telepath was talking to people. Cause the people whom he talks to will start behaving peculiarly. Like hallucanating or talking to themselves. Like the Farf.  
*Brad wants me to tell you that there some former Taketori's secretary coming over tommorrow to help you to help you with your dresses... Wardrobe...whatever.*  
Brad voice rang from the level below. "I DIDN'T SAY--"  
*WHAT DRESSES?!*  
* He wants you to dress up nice and girly for his parents.*  
Brad again. " FARFELLO!!!"  
*TELL HIM TO GO PLAY WITH A CONSTIPATED BARBIE DOLL!*  
Pause.   
*He says that Barbie Dolls(TM) look demonic. And he says when we stay over at his parents house, he'll be sleeping on the floor, far away from you.*  
* Good, I get to hog the whole bed. Hey, I'm stealing your strait jacket for tonight.*  
*Don't get it dirty, I want it back.* Apparently, Farf is not one to ask questions. It comes with living with everyone too long. Things happen.  
*S'Okay.*  
Schuldich peered throught the darkness of the room at a pile of strait jackets on the floor, chains from the ceiling, and a couple of Benga Boys/Toybox/ Dance Dance Revolution cds on the floor. Farf REALLY knows how to torture himself. Sculdich winced.  
He looked at the pile of strait-jackets.some more practical, some rather fashionable. He rummaged throught he pile till he came upon a rather sturdy-looking one. At least he wouldn't break out of that...if he wore it. There was a little stain in the corner that he didn't want to think about...He wrinkled his nose. Ah well...(I mean, if you need alot of sleeping pills to keep you from getting violent, a strait-jacket is the next best thing.)He shut the door behind him as he hurried back to his room before anybody could see him.  
He/she locked his door.  
At least nobody would be able to hear what he was doing. The telepath tried not to think about the inevitable dreams, brought on by the courtesy of pms, cause it wasn't really healthy to dwell on such things. He shrugged the jacket over his head, patting it down as it puffed up. Then he made sure that the arms were tightly tied and tried. He struggled a little to make sure... He sighed and plopped down on his bed, biting a gag as he snuggled down the covers...He absolutely hated what he knew was going to happen (but there was nothing he could do about the dreams anyway)...He paused, reconsidering the alternative to scram over to the drugstore to get more sleeping pills...  
Oh well...Just for tonight.  
A few minutes later the redhead was fast asleep,snuggled in the jacket, a nagging feeling at the back of his mind about the day after and the dangerous lack of sleeping pills and required medication. He had been off that medication for about three months...The sleeping pills for one... The busy night noise of Tokyo drowned out the gentle breathing of a telepath. After all it was only a dream that he was going through, nothing more, nothing less....  
  
But if it was a dream why would it hurt so much?  
  
Sculdich twitched.  
And jerked.  
And moaned...

Because not everyone has a past like she did.

A minute later the spasms and screaming started in full, silenced by the strait jacket and gag, unheard by the trio down below...The figure on the bed tangled itself up the bedsheets as it twisted. No, she would only remember the past too clearly in the morning. It was best if no one knew. God know what they would think.  
Tears began to roll down a german's face...

********************

The sun shone brightly throught the megatropolis of Tokyo as morning dawned. A speeding sports car screamed through the morning traffic as it sped in the direction of the Scharwz headquarters.  
Takeshi Souchiro grinned as she spun round a corner. Today Crawford-san asked her to come to his house.  
YEAH BABY!Crawford-san was always nice to the ladies in the office, even when Mr Taketori mysteriously resigned. Always brought really nice cakes from REALLY hard-to-find shops. ABSOULUTELY SEXY MAN. She almost fainted when he asked her over to his house (to help his wife get a new wardrobe, of course he should have a wife by now, cause he was SOooOoO GOOD-LOOKING, but that DOESN'T MATTER AT ALL.....She was just ADMIRING him...) He worked for Mr Taketori but she wasn't very sure what he did, maybe some important jobs or something....LALALA  
She screeched to a halt outside the Scharwz apartment, hopping out of her shining sports car onto the pavement. She hurried up the steps to the front door and hammered on the bell, best to be early for a meeting than late, ESPECIALLY with Crawford-san!

********************  
Authors notes: you know, I always thought that working office ladies in animes always had thoughts like that... One long BUZZ of them.  
********************

The breakfast table was already filled at three spots.  
One chair filled by Brad. Drinks his coffee calmly, and reads the morning papers.  
One chair filled by Nagi. ( there was a little space in between them...)Eating all the junk that sixteen-year-olds eat.  
A one WHOLE side for Farfie. Who ate cereal. With milk. Brad wouldn't let him eat anything else that used knives. Cause everyone wuld lose their appetites for breakfast sooner or later.  
Crawford was already up and running before the doorbell even rang.(One good point of having precognition there...)   
  
RINGRINGRINGRINGRINGRINGRINGRINGRINGIRNINRININIRNIRNIRNIRNIRNIRNIRNRIRIR--.  
  
Nagi and Farfie grimaced.

He moved smoothly to get it, leaving Farfello and Nagi to man the breakfast table. Farfello was stabbing his food (with a spoon) in an attempt to eat it in pieces while Nagi's honeyed wafer fell back into his plate after a full orbit around Crawford, threatening to stain his spotless pressed suit. Crawford glared for a moment before continuing on his path.   
The door opened on his over-eager secretary, who was on the verge of launching herself at him. He gave a warm smile, " Good Morning, Souchiro-san, thank you for coming,"  
*OOOOOOOOOOOOO HE IS SOOOOOOO CUUUUUUTE!!!*  
The breathless woman found herself hustled into the living room where she flopped onto a plush couch (with some dagger holes but she didn't really notice, cause all her attention was riveted on...)  
"CRAWFORD-SAN!THANK YOU FOR INVITING ME HERE!" (she attempted to glomp him)  
Crawford evaded successfully. Always the unpreturbed gentlemen...He smiled again. "Coffee?"  
"YES!"  
Crawford hurried away slowly (is that possible?) to the kitchen, to a safer place away from the now-rabid secretary. The others looked up as he rushed in. Crawford gathered his breath.  
"Why isn't Schuldich down yet?"  
"Cause he's most probably still snoring his ass off somewhere in LaLa Land?"   
"Shit!" Crawford prepared to hurry up the stairs. He looked back for a moment.  
"Can I trust you two to deal with her? Nagi, entertain her while I get Schuldich... "  
Nagi looked up, " Well, she can't be worse than your Mom. I'm on." He got up from his place at the table.  
"Hn." A grunt from the Farf.  
"No, Farfello, you stay here. Don't scare her away while I go get Schuldich out of bed."  
"Don't climb INTO the bed and make us wait," Farfie and Nagi snickered.  
"Have you been reading any R-rated things on that Internet of yours?" Crawford looked REALLY suspiciously at Nagi who looked innocent.  
"Me? Why, I'm just BARELY underaged, how could you suspect dear little--"  
"Nevermind."

************************************

Brad sped up the stairs to Schuldich's room, the first on the right.

*Heck, he should be awake by now...* He turned the knob to the room. Hmm... It was locked. He gave a sigh. Oh well...  
__________________BAMN____________________________  
He kicked the door in.

  
************************************

Souchiro was OoOogling over Nagi as he walked into the livingroom, a robotic smile on his face.  
"OOoO you must be Crawford-san's little brother!!!! SO KAWAIIIII!"  
Nagi cursed mentally. Stupid Brad... "Actually, nee-chan, I'm his son...."  
*WHAT?* That wiped the smile off her face. That would mean that Crawford-san is REALLY old....  
"But I'm adopted." *Who wants to be related to him,,,,*  
Souchiro-san's face burst out into a sunny smile again.

Suddenly a loud BANG came from the floor above, echoing through the house.  
"WHAT WAS THAT!?" Souchiro's voice raised about a few degrees above the human hearing...  
Nagi winced. He bet that Farfie winced too. "Um, I think that was 'Dad' waking 'Mom' up...They are a little..--"  
"--um...active..."  
After saying that, Nagi's brain went into overtime and he turned REALLY red...  
Hooo BOY...he was going to have a little trouble thinking straight after this...

************************************  
  
Brad peered cautiously into the room, the darkness permeaded by the faintest of lights from the window. He could make out the shape of a figure on the bed. The room was a mess.He sighed as he pushed the door fully open.The splinters showered down from the doorframe.   
He stopped. "Schuldich?" He moved closer to the figure on the bed, draped with a blanket. He poked it. "Hey."  
*I bet that he can sleep through an earthquake...*  
"Wake up Sleepyhea--"  
A moan greeted him as the figure tried to flip over. Tried to flip over. Tethered on the edge of the matress for a moment...  
And landed with an ungraceful THUMP on carpeted floor.   
"OOOOOFFFF!!!WHAT THE $#!+?! #$%^&*()_@$^&^@#&@?!" A german voice managed to yell out a whole string of profanities as he struggled on the floor , still covered by the blanket. THUMPTHUMPTHUMP. Brad sighed. He was going to sleep with a psycho at his parent's house? Bring on the sleeping pills and bandages, baby...  
"Stay still!" Brad pulled off the twisted blanket intertwined in the struggling body, off the verbally-offensive german.   
"For SHIT'S SAKE DONT PULL THE BLANKET--"  
Crawford blinked. Add straps and chains and tranquilizer to that list please...  
"OMIGOD. What are you doing in that strait-jacket?!"  
"WILL YOU SHUT UP?!" Schuldich was having a VERY BAD headache and loud noises was making his head throb...  
"THE SECRETARY'S DOWNSTAIRS ALREADY! GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF THAT!"  
"HOW THE SHIT AM I SUPPOSED TO GET MYSELF OUT OF THIS?!"  
"THE SAME WAY YOU GOT IN?!"  
"WELL I'M SORRY THAT I DIDN"T KNOW THAT THIS JACKET BOASTS A ONE-WAY TICKET ONLY!"  
"THEN WHAT THE SHIT WERE YOU DOING IN THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE?!"  
" I WAS VISITING MY MOMMA! NOW SHUT UP BEFORE YOU MAKE MY HEAD WORSE!"  
Brad shut up but he directed his thoughts at the german.  
*WHAT KIND OF IDIOT STRAPS HIMSELF INTO A LOONEY SUIT FOR FUN?! Hn...with the exception of Farfello of cours--*  
Schuldich's eyes's and head hurt. That stupid dream again...*Shut UP! I can hear you, you know?*  
Brad sighed as he attempted to lift/ease? the German into a sitting position on the bed," Sit down, I'll help you get out of that."   
"Why? I'll get it off myself..."  
"Yeah, by ripping your arms out of the socket..."  
"Oh, you DO paint a lovely picture of the future..."  
"Ah shut up." Brad pulled the tough canvas jacket over Schuldich's head as he sat down, creasing the already rumpled sheets. He looked down as he tossed the jacket on the floor.   
He turned a bright red as he raised an eyebrow. Schuldich wasn't wearing exactly anything. NOT EXACTLY. "You sleep with those things on?"  
"What things?" Schuldich's sleep-besotted brain wasn't exactly functioning in the morning...He scratched his head, trying to get rid of the knots in his hair. Dang, this long hair was REALLY getting to him...  
"THOSE things..." Brad's voice was getting a little clinical...a sign that he was fighting off distraction. Oh, the immense distractions that only a woman can possess...  
Schu looked down.   
"What things?...OH, THOSE things...Oh, um..." Schu looked down at his t-shirt covered chest.  
Um, yeah, CHEST.   
*OH SHIT.*   
And realised that Crawford was staring.*Shit shit shit, forgot to wear the chest bind last night..*.  
*I hope he doesn't look into my waste basket....*He covered his chest as he realised that ALL he was wearing, was A t-shirt...No pants, no UNDERPANTS (he wore underwear, rather skimpy to be exact...), no NOTHING. He felt, literally, naked. *OH SHIT--*  
Brad, however, was having very different thoughts...He zoned out as Schuldich made a show of trying to pull the already TINY t-shirt further down to cover a LITTLE more skin.   
*OH GOD*  
*STOP LOOKING YOU ASSHOLE! GIVE A GUY(oh shit, i nearly said GIRL) SOME PRIVACY!*  
Crawford looked away as Schuldich attempted to pull the tiny t-shirt further down...A most feminine-like action...  
He turned back. And coughed." I see that you were training up on feminine behavior...interesting..."  
*Would you like to try?* Schuldich's tone was sweet enough to kill...  
*Oh well...the strait-jacket must be for in-flight training...training himself not to SLEEP all over the other airline passengers I suppose....* He hurriedly switched the subject. He looked down at Schuldich. NOthing to be ashamed about, we're all guys in here, and THAT...is just a prosthesis...nothing more or less...  
"You know, those things look absolutely real--" He bent over as he POKED poor Schu in the chest rather clinically...

BIG mistake.

__________SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!!!!__________

A poor Brad Crawford was sent pinwheeling to the other end of the room rather quickly. Ouch.  
*WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!* Brad clutched at his mortally wounded face with its rather fancy PERMANANT red handprint complete with fingerprints imprinted hard enough to be seen. Lucky he thought-yelled. If he did it aurally, we'd hear him on the other side of the Artic Ocean.  
  
After a most traumatic experience; Schuldich grinned sweetly (more like the TradeMarked Schu Smirk)."I was just...Cultivating a proper female response...." (Of course it was a proper female response. We ALL approve of it, don't we?) His/her hand just moved...all by itself... (natural reaction to all perverts who can't keep their hands to themselves...)   
Brad's hurt expression hardened as he stormed out of the room. His voice was icy as he moved into the hall, " You better hurry up and get out of bed. Souchiro-san, the secretary, is waiting for you downstairs." And he huffed and puffed his way back below...* He didn't HAVE to hit me that hard....*  
Schuldich watched the leader stride out of the open door and grumbled as he moved off the bed(thankfully at last) to his bathroom. That was one of the closest shaves that he had come across. Schuldich made sure that he/she took her time in choosing her outfit. Something nice and tight with boots...

Heh. Stupid Crawford. He/she looked at her reflection in the mirror, and gave a murmur of approval. *when one dresses,--*

*--one should dress to kill.* He gave the redhaired beauty in the mirror a wink. She winked right back.

Brad thought-yelled as he stomped down the staircase.* HURRY UP ALREADY!*

*He WANTS me to hurry? I ain't in no hurry to be playing Doll....Barbie Doll...* the telepath grumbled for a moment. Only a moment, before a thought lifted his spirits. Schuldich literally skipped out the room.. Oh, just think of all the men she'd push over the proverbal edge today...Oh, the wonders of being female...

*************************   
Nagi was having a nightmare.  
In addition to talking to the SCARY lady, he ---  
Had his cheeks pinched.  
Pinched.  
STREEEEEEEETCHED.  
And PUUUUUUUUUULLLED.  
*This is DEFINITELY not in my CONTRAAA~AAACT!!!!* All the noise from above didn't help in his embarrassment at all. Not one bit....  
He yelped in relief as he spotted Brad coming back down the staircase." Brad!"  
"OoOh, Crawford-san! Your son is just SOOOO ADORABLE!" PinchPinchPinch. She PUULLED. Crawford winced slightly at the sight. *Sorry, Nagi*  
Brad winced as their telepathy network came online with the ritualistic waking of the local telephone, um, telepath.  
*IF YOUR MOM IS WORSE THAN THAT THAT THAT THING OVER THERE, I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF--*  
He could almosst hear Schuldich laughing now...  
Souchiro grinned brightly as she played with such a CUTE little boy.She heard footsteps THUMP hurriedly down the staircase.*Crawford-san must have gotten his wife up already..Ah!* She watched a pair of booted feet descend the staircase behind Crawford-san, "Oh, here she is, Ohayo Crawford-chan....." Her words died in her throat.  
Descending the staircase in slow motion; Hair-tossing wildly in an unseen wind, shapely limbs moving freely, was the most beautiful woman that she EVER seen...* OMIGOD, Crawford-san's wife must be a SUPERMODEL.* She already envied the full lips, the cream coloured skin...everything... The booted feet now rested on the carpet of the livingroom floor. Envy, envy, envy....  
Brad wondered at the peculiar look on the secretay's face. Was the disguise so obvious...? He winced behind her back as he waited for the worst...  
Green eyes blinked their long lashes at her. "Good morning..."  
She simply squealed,"SOOOOO PRETTY!!! Crawford-san must be the luckiest man in the world!!!"  
Brad must've thought her mad. Farfello looked up from the breakfast table as flocks of crows squawked and flew away in the distance. After taking a glance at a CHESTFUL of german, Farfello now decided to scramble to his room to clean his eyes out with a knife. EARGH. Disgusti--  
*SHUT UP FARF.* EVERYONE could hear the LOUD mental sulks except for--  
"Souchiro-san, please meet my wife--" Brad placed a cautious hand on Schu's shoulder. Schuldich was practically dripping with mental menace...  
Nagi snickered as he scrambled off the couch, away from the MONSTER. Farfello grinned unseen in the kitchen. Schuldich glared.  
*Schu is Brad's wife!*  
*wifewifewifewife--*  
"--Schully."  
Nagi howled with laughter as he made his getaway up the staircase.A spray of food could be seen in the doorway to the kitchen as Farfie choked on his breakfast. Schuldich just--  
*WHAT KIND OF SHIT NAME IS THAT?!* Schuldich could just barely keep a perfuctionary smile on his face as he fumed, his hands inching into fists around an imaginary Braddy neck.   
Brad winced.  
Souchiro looked surprised as she said,"What? What's so funny?"  
*I couldn't think off anything--*  
*EXCEPT THE X-FILES?!*  
*Well--"  
Souchiro pounced forward as the couple gazed lovingly into each other's eyes (PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS FROM AN ALTERNATE POINT OF VIEW) She clasped 'Schully's' hands in hers. Schuldich looked down in surprise.  
"Nice to meet you, Scully-san!"  
Another howl of laughter could be heard from both UPSTAIRS and from the KITCHEN.

(*X-FIlesX-FilesX-Files!!!!!*) 

*********************************

Schuldich, um, now "Schully", slammed the front door.   
Souchiro winced. Schully-san doesn't seem to be a morning person...  
*YOU EVIL SON OF A $%^^%*^%** Schuldich screamed at the unoffending apartment building. Crawford winced as the thought shot right through the six foot thick steel walls(which was covered by slightly ketchup-stained flowery wallpaper). The female pair walked down the stone steps to the side walk. Schuldich didn't look back.  
Brad sighed behind the front door.   
*--We got a bullet-proof, sound-proof, rust proof metal walls, but why couldn't have gotten a thought-proof--*   
*I HEARD THAT!*  
Ooops. Shouldn't have let that thought slip....  
*Goodbye, have a nice shopping trip, dear. See you in the evening...* Brad's mental voice was heavily sarcastic.  
*I'll be sure to bring a lovely little carving knife set for your "brother-in-law", then I'll set him loose on you...*  
Souchiro was thinking as she made her way to the parking lot. *What a nice family... Wonder why doesn't Schully-san kiss her husband goodbye? * She led 'Schully' to the sports car glittering in the morning sunlight. * I wonder how they met.....*  
She began to break the uneasy silence, " Um, Schully-san, where do you want to go--"  
Schuldich heard the little muse. And grinned hugely. He stopped Souchiro-san. "Hold on a moment, I forgot something important." He ran back up the steps to the front door where he started hammering.  
Brad sighed as he heard someone banging on the door as he began to walk away. Schuldich must have forgotten something. He turned back to the door and was going to twist the handle when a __DON'TOPENTHEDOORORYOU'LLREGRETIT__ sense of danger came over him. He blinked as the feeling dissapated. He felt should follow his instincts and leave the door closed, but NOOOOOOOO, he just HAD to open the door--

A red-haired whirlwind launched itself into his arms, wrapping her/his arms behind Brad's head, forcing it downwards where it met--

--a pair of amazingly warm and soft and impossibly feminie --lips. 

Brad froze in as his 'wife' pressed against him, forcing him to stumble back a step. His mind was a blank. *Wha---*  
*This is just one of the many punishments you get for making me your wife, Braddy-Baby,*  
The German smirked at his shocked expression. and breathed into his ear. 

  
* then you'll see how bad this can get when we get to your parent's house...* 

********************************************* 

CHAPTER TWO = END 

Authors Notes (I know you all hate this but hear up for a while): I love you guys.Exams are (incredibly) over!My sis commented on a problem with the fic. _WHY DO I ALWAYS REFER TO SCHUSCHU AS A 'HE' /'SHE' WHEN WE ALL KNOW THAT HE IS A SHE?_ 

Don't get it? Read the sentence carefully. 

I mean, when you write, consider Brad point of view.  
Brad: *Oh my god, I'll be sleeping with a guy.* 

This is because in his mind, Schu is a GUY. ( BRAD! That's DISGUSTING! Enough of messing around with Brad inner voice...) 

Then you consider Schu's point of view.  
Schu: "MAN, I look GOOD. " 

That's because we all know that he has the right organs, body parts....etc... 

Oh well, don't wait up for chapter Three. I already wrote the first part of charter four (few thousand words only...) And the whole plot twists from there. It's really complicated after you find out who Brad's dad is. Brad himself doesn't even know it. 

Brad* I don't...?* 

Brad, I can read your thoughts right off the page. No. You. Don't. That's where it all gets dangerous and the white lie that Braddy-baby here tells his parents gets bigger and bigger. Because Schwarz may all die it they're found out. Sad, isn't it? But it gets funnier. CAUSE CHAPTER THREE IS WHERE THEY ALL GO SHOPPING! Find out a little about Schu's past as well...as far as I know, there are several thousand versions of 'em out there....That's one guy with a lot of past. 

Damn. I have to retype the whole of chapter three. ALL Twenty-thousand over words of it.... 

Review and make me happy, people. If you don't, I won't know either, but for pete's sake, boost my ego will ya? 

My ego is the size of a pea. And I don't like peas. 

(p.s.: who's pete?) 


	3. Chapter 3: Taking Baby Steps in High Hee...

+A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction+  
**********************  
Happy Family  
Chapter Three: Taking Baby Steps in High Heels   
(A.K.A Brad, the overprotective Husband/Pain in the ass)  
**********************  
Author's note: Sorry guys for taking sooooOOo long to put up the next few chapters...JadOo has been screaming about that already, so, please, don't rub it in... I'm working on a website and I hope that all of you will be incredibly friendly and visit it once it's up... (I'm saying "incredibly" cause most people, like me, would just skip the author notes crap and jump straight to the story) It even got a fanfiction section so everyone's invited to post their fanfiction there...ALL RATINGS ACCEPTED. Luv you guys. Please don't report me to the site manager because of my bad spelling and profanities. 

(Do you believe that I had no idea what "kiester" meant? I asked my sister and she told me to turn 180 degrees and look down.  
I turned around and didn't see anything.   
And then she simply threw what she was reading and hit me on the butt.)

I think my stories are just damn corny.

CORNY.  
So corny that you could make pink popcorn out of it.

Yech.

Sorry, you only get to see Brad's dad in the next chapter. SPOILER: what do you if you are living with your enemy? (I need replies on this cos I have no idea what to write...)

  
***************************************

Fire Escape

Well, I don't wanna be President   


Superman or Clark Kent  


I don't wanna walk 'round in their shoes

Cause I don't know who's side I'm on  


I don't know my right from wrong  


I don't know where I'm going to  


I don't know about you

I'll be the rain falling on your fire escape  


_And I may not be the man you want me to_

  


I can be myself, how 'bout you?  


I don't wanna make you mad  


_I don't wanna meet your dad_  


_I don't wanna be your dream come true_  


'Cause I don't know what I've just found

I don't know my sky from ground  


I don't know where I'm going to  


I don't know about you  


I'll be the rain falling on your fire escape

_And I may not be the man you want me to _  


I can be myself, how 'bout you?  


I'll be the rain falling on your fire escape

And I may not be the man you want me to   


I can be myself , how 'bout you?  


I can be myself , how 'bout you?  


I can be myself 

How 'bout you? 

_______________FastballAll the Pain Money Can Buy  


***************************************

  
Brad Crawford wasn't the happiest man in the world.  
Rather, he WAS the happiest--  
From the bottom up.  
  
Let's say it was about how his day started.  
One--  
He had bad coffee.  
Two--  
He had to wake up a mentally violent, self-inflicting (and others-inflicting), transvestite who was supposed to be his wife, possibly for the rest of his -short- life.  
Three-- He now had two giggly Schwarz members running about the house.  
Four-- He had just been kissed by a transvestite.Who was supposed to be his wife, possibly for the rest of his -shortened- life. (Whoops, did I mention that already?) 

eargh.

Considering that he had to take Farfello to the hairdresser. Just to turn his lovely white hairs to white blond. Not that he'll be able to see any difference, but it's just the reassurance that the colour of his hair is actually --normal. (there were plenty of sharp objects there though, and he'll have a helluva time keeping him away from 'em. Um...Farfie, not Brad....)  
Nagi to the kiddie clothes shop. You know, Nagi could look _almost _normal in Mickey Mouse shirts. Or Minnie Mouse. (he kept insisting on getting J-rock clothes, but Brad said it was either Mickey Mouse or Sailormoon. Nagi immediately opted for the former. All due to Brad having immense foresight to know that nobody wearing leather will be let through customs.)  
And keep an eye out for Schuldich who was supposed to whittle his time away having fun/hell with the secretary.(*... transvestite...* Now now Brad, leave dear Schu-schu alone... You'll never know what the German does. Brad never trusted Germans after he walked into a German bar and read the motto "Save Water. Drink Beer." He can even _imagine _ Schuldich in a lingerie store, looking for nice skimpy leather ones...)

Brad slumped onto the black couch and covered his eyes. His suit was slightly crumpled where he sat down. How the heck did he get from being the leader of one of the most elite assasin groups in the world to THIS? The image of Schuldich pressing his face onto his own was horrifying. Far worse than running through a whole building with machine guns at very corner and---  
He heard the screech of the car outside as the two (now giggly) women sped off somewhere into the city of Tokyo. His heart sank right through the floor. Brad ran a clean fist cuff where the (EARG) telepath had kissed him; his mouth. He felt like spitting up, throwing up, burning his face off... Not to get the kiss off, but to bash himself into the realisation that he despised it. He hated contact. His face contorted.  
He could hear the German smirking like mad. SMIRKSMIRKSMIRK. *--Hate you Schuldich. Don't ever touch me again.* The mental growl went unheard by the telepath far away.   
He looked down at his sleeve, which now boasted red lipstick in the shape of a pair of lips. Damn. Just ruined a suit. (Suits 'R Us?)  
His precognition didn't help. Fat hope it did. He sat back up from his reclined position. 

Sure, it was worth meeting his family again. His real family. 

But sometimes-- just sometimes-- he_ JUST_ really didn't think so...

Pause.

*ScuhldichkissedkisssSchuldich-etc-etc-etc*

"SCHULDICH YOU EVIL FIEND!!!" Aha, we can all imagine what naughty little Braddy-boy is imagining, tee-hee-hee.

  
***********

In order to get Souchiro-san to drag Schuldich on the longest day-trip of his, um _her, _life to a any one shopping district, Braddy-boy had to tell a itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka-dot--

Um, yeah, _lie._

As if saying your wife was simply a german supermodel, as if saying that she came over and lost her wardrobe, as if putting on your i-command-you-to-drool-over-me-NOW smile on a poor defenseless little office lady, as if all these little ifs were considered itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, and not to mention, --polka-dotted.

Schuldich personally added this to a list of unforgivable sins that Braddy-boy has to atone for.  


" _Lingerie?_ " Schuldich gaped at the store in front of them. A lingerie store; with its store front dominated by pink frilly strips of cloth barely decent enough to be called underwear. When there was actually anything to wear in the first place.

" What's wrong with that?" Souchiro looked puzzled, it was just any normal lingerie store, all designed to attract attention, good or bad. Schuldich was having one of the greatest lows of his life. Her life. The lingerie was frilly and pink. FRILLY _and_ PINK.

To understand why we must all look back at the past; All good little assassins do NOT, I repeat, do NOT wear skimpy lingerie on missions. Or at all ( we all suspect by now that ScuSchu doesn't wear underwear....). You wouldn't want you enemies to drool over you or accidentally shoot themselves in the foot, 'cause you lose all the fun killing them... Although Brad Crawford fighting in skimpy lingerie sounds distinctively unappealling...not.

'Schully' wiped the (coughcoughomygodisthatacoughcough. Nevermind.) image of Braddy out of her head. Then she giggled. Souchiro simply oogled at her.

" Is there anywhere that sells black skimpy leather lingerie?"

***********

The Nut, the Kid and the Husband all sat at the breakfast table.

The other two giggled. Brad sighed. *This is going to take a long time....*

Them Nagi pipped "SCULLY!". And both of them burst out into a fresh round of laughing-till-your-insides-aren't-there-anymore.

*A REALLY long time....*

" You two, we've got to get serious about picking names," Brad's patience went into the negative range. The sheets upon sheets of names began to look distinctively unappealing, especially the first one he picked out for Farfello. It _really didn't match their--_

"What are we doing today, Daddy?" Nagi spouted with a all-too-innocent-because-I-broke-something-valuable look. Farfie just hyperventilated and nearly toppled off the table, laughing.

Brad took a deep breath.

"WehavetogetthisdonewithinthenextfewsecondsoriwillpersonallyscreamanddancearoundlikeFarfellowithmybuttonfirewhetherornotitwillcausepermanantdamagetoyour-mentalhealthconsideringthatyouhavenonetoworryaboutinthefirstplace."

Farfie and Nagi stared at him. "Wot?"

"Nevermind."

"What does this mean?" Farfie leaned over the breakfast table and stabbed his knife down on and thought the thick stack-o-names, neatly underlining a word. And nearly sliced Brad's fingers off. Brad safely tucked his fingers into fists constantly after that... he looked down.  
" Fabien? You don't look like a Fabien..."

"What does it meeeee-eean?"

" It's french for beans."

" I said 'mean'"

" It means beans!"

" No it doesn't! Mean is mean and beans hurt g--"

" Fabien means beans."

"Oh."

"You don't look like beans."

"But I'm French!"

"No you're Irish."

"FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENCH FRENCH FRENCH!"

It all went downhill from there.

********************************

Schu was at least having a better time than Braddy. 

Well, AT LEAST. Noting that all the shops that dear old Souchiro-san dragged him/her to were all nice and girly. Please note that our dear SchuSchu has never been nice and girly. And flowery and...yech.

The bright spotlight of the shop was painful to Schuldich who was not used to going into...this kind of shop. 

Correction. It wasn't the spotlight. More like the painfully bright yellows and pinks and other otherworldly flamboyant colours. A-ha...

All the other customers were looking on as the mismatched pair stood in the middle of the shop. Schuldich covered his eyes. *I can't believe this...* The saleswomen were looking on enviously at Schuldich. He/she didn't notice. Schuldich, the supposed german supermodel was definitely doing a very convincing act. She ran a hand through the tangle of flame-coloured hair. *Brad that ass--*

A sigh rippled through the shop. All the female parts of the couples punched their male counterparts. 

*--hole. Why can't I wear my normal clothes?* His/her thin eyebrow furrowed in frustration. She was already very embarrassed at all the stares he/she had been getting all day. People tend to stare more when you have a chest. And not to mention that his/her feet hurt. ARGH. ........Her thoughts switched to something else...The image of Brad's shocked face as she kissed him ran through her mind. Actually she kinda liked it... Really. After the part where she stole Brad's credit card right out in front of him. Yeah, he liked it ...Brad was such a blind oaf. Blundering, blind oaf. Big, blundering. blind oaf.--

"Schully-san! Try this on, it looks very good on--" Souchiro picked up a dress with a scarf. A nice preferably revealing-- considering Schully-san's figure. Definitely hour-glass. Without the hips. (coughcough). She caught Schully-san looking off into the distance, thoughtfully. AWWWWWWWWWWW......must be thinking of dear Crawfo--

--Seriously, when you think about it, when it comes to working with the same guys years on end, they end up looking better than they did the first time you met them. Nagi wasn't exactly all small cute and squishy anymore. Farfie got better dress clothes. Brad got a better haircut. Of course, that doesn't dismiss the fact that dear Schuschu wants to bash Brad's face in for all the numerous times--

"Schully-san? Are you--" Souchiro waved a hand in front of Schu's face . Schudich immediately snapped back to reality. " Yeah?" he/she gave a reassuring sunny smile. (it hurts to do that, you know, stretching that grin all over your face...). Souchiro shoved the now-a-pile of dresses into her/his hands. " Why don't you go and try these on? I'll go get some more." She tittered and went off again in the quest for more dresses. Toting the little bag of leather ligerie that Schu bought.  
Schuldich looked down at the pile of dresses. Dammit. The dress materials were itchy and scratchy and--sigh. What's that most irritating feminine word again..? Oh yeah, _icky_. She strode to the nearest changing room, a small white-walled booth at the back of the shop, preoccupied, not noticing that a Kitten was drooling at the store window, along with countless other males.

************

Youji stared into the store. *Whoah, did you look at that pair of legs....*. His face was stuck to the window. Drooling. 

"Youji-san!" Omi squeezed through the crowd of men to the storefront, must to the disgruntled looks of all the other males.. He tugged at the Kudou's headset to get his attention. "Hello~? I gave the signal for the operation to begin about five times already... Hey, are you listening...?" No reply. Youji stones.

Omi twisted the radio knob on high and blew into the microphone.

" YOUJI-SAN!" A loud burst of static nearly deafened the blond.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAt?!" Youji clapped his hands over his ears.

Omi grabbed his sleeve as dragged him away to another storefront, away from the crowd. A few passerbys looked on. He whispered. "Abyssinian and Siberian are already in place! What do you think you're doing?" Youji sulked. " You know, you sound like Aya more and more each day..."

" You were supposed to monitor our subject!"

"I AM! um--was...?"

" PRECISELY MY POINT!" Omi grinned. " We all know that no respectable Schwarz member goes into shops like that." 

" But I just saw Mastermind--" *at least there was this lady that looked like--*

"--somewhere else. Now shoo, go and find him. We got reports of Schwarz heading around somewhere in this direction. You must have imagined it." Omi's expression mock-hardened. " Don't go falling in love with the subject. We're suppose to eliminate them."

" Oh, yeah. Oh, _YEAH_..." Youji meandered off somewhere again... Looking at that gorgeous blon---

Omi sighed.

*****************

The whole plan was to kill Schwarz in public. The orders came in a few days ago. 

Apparently the higher-ups didn't feel that anyone was safe with the four talents running around. Aya looked down from the sunlit roof onto the busy business district of downtown Tokyo. The harsh cold wind blew his hair out of his eyes. His eyes narrowed.

They were murderers, no mercy, no qualms. He believed that they deserved to die. And no, he would not hold back.

He would get them this time.

*************************************

The dress was really tight. Even tighter than the *uh-hem* leather jeans that he/she wore on missions. Schu cursed as she/he squeezed past the tiny waistline of the dress. The clothes that she wore before lay shed on the carpeted floor. Thank god that she missed years upon years of this. She almost dislocated her should trying to zip up the back of the dress. A low-backed dress. A really low-backed dress that wasn't really showing the back. Actually, more of the *coughcough* areas lower down...  
She stared at the stunning figure in the mirror. A smart-looking redhead with her hair cascading like fire down her shoulders pouted in the mirror. Dressed in a sleeveless body-wrapping velvet with lovely little trimmings in the wrong places to attract wrong attentions. Nah, he really didn't like this one.... Not revealing enough.... As if baring your butt to the whole world wasn't enough... Schuldich could be running around in his birthday suit for all we know--

He stripped again, with his back to the mirror.

A loud banging on the door heralded the arrival of Souchiro, eager beaver extraordinaire. " Schully-san! I got more dresses!"

Schuldich sighed as she let the next dress slip to the floor. " Souchiro, deary, you don't have to keep calling me Schully-san...(besides, I hate that name. Mulder and Schully sounds like Molder and Scurry.) You can call me Schu."

A pause. "Okay then" The bright voice returned. " I know a very nice place we can get dresses, Schu-san! But....It's very expensive..."

"Don't worry, my husband gave my his credit card..." Schuldich snickered as he looked down at a small bnulge in the back of her pants lying on the floor.

"Really?"

Schu smirked. Another reason why she kissed Braddy-boy this morning. Everyone needs a budget. He picked up the next dress on the pile and looked at the amount of material on it. *Hm... Little enough.... Maybe this one will be fine.* The problem with the dress was that it had so many holes that you wouldn't know which holes to put your arms, legs and head and twenty other supposed limbs that could be put into each of the remaining holes.

Schuldich looked in the mirror. Hardly any bit of skin was not _not _revealed. teehee... 

*I like it.*

"Schu-san, did you say something...?" Souchiro could have sworn that she heard Schu-san say something, but she was pretty sure that she in fact, hadn't said anything at all.... Schuldich winced inside the booth. *Oops, shouldn't have let that thought slip...*

"Um, I was asking whether we could go to that shop later...If you want..."

"OKAY!" * Anything to get outta here!*

*******************

"I'M NOT COMING OUT IN THIS!!!" Schuldich's voice rang out in the classy, expensive but empty interior of the shop. Apparently they only catered to REALLY rich people. Like Schuldich at the moment...

Souchiro waited outside with the manager, grinning in anticipation at how Schuldich was going to look in the---

The store manager, an old man in his fifties with greying hair, and more than slightly perverted expression, sighed. " But madame, it is known that Minimal is Maximal!"

"BUT THERE'S NOTHING TO COME OUT _IN_!" Apparently our dear old Schuldich finally came across a store that even he couldn't help but choke at all the-- " 

"Do you have anything that looks more ...let's say...dangerous? I don't mean more revealing, cause this dress is seriously leaving nothing to the imagination. "

"Dangerous?...Madame...? You mean as in _leather_?" the manager looked more than a little disapproving.

"Yeah, leather would be fine..." There was a slight _oof _as Schuldich slipped out of the teeny piece of rag. Farfello could make a better work out of a pice of cloth than some of the things in the shop. Much better in fact. At least it would have been _recognisable _as cloth. 

********************

Authors notes: Sorry boys and girls, you only get FULL details of Schu's dresses when Brad sees Schu in them...teehee. Or out of them.

********************

Omi didn't really want to kill Schwarz. He knew that there was some good in them. He could see it in their eyes everytime they fought. They were hollow smiling shells, fighting machines, not even knowing that they were being controlled. The straps of his goggles flapped as he ran through the crowd. Into position.

Ken-kun would understand. They fought each other as only opponents. Not I-have-a-one-goal-which-is-to-kill-you situation as with Aya. They were different.

Nagi never wanted to kill him. He was pretty sure of that.

But.... work was work.

Youji better keep his eyes open.

***********************

Brad opened the door of the house and hustled the other two out of the place. Hellhole. Or whatever-you-call-it. The two newly christened members stepped into the warm sunshine, giggling away. After an hour of argument, Farfello was Fabien (Beans) and Nagi...

--was Nagi. Or Neil. Or Naiose. Or Noise. Or something.

Brad prefered to call him Neil. Nagi wanted to be called Nagi. Farfie called him Noise. Because he made a hell of a racket---

( quite a few minutes ago...you could say a hour.)

" WHAT THE HECK? Neil Armstrong!? NO WAY AM I GOING TO BE NAMED AFTER SOME GUY PRANCING AROUND ON THE MOON!" In addition, Nagi _was_ prancing around the kitchen like some idiot in zero gravity.

" There's nothing wrong with being name after some famous American!" Brad argued across the dining table, his eyes and head tracking Nagi in his less-than- destructive progress around the room. 

"CORRECTION; _YOUR_ famous American. All he did was get his butt up there and do the Macarena."

Brad frowned. "He did _not_ do the Marcarena."

" You get what I mean."

"Naiose then," Brad looked down fillipantly at the name sheet. ( please note that Naiose is pronounced nee-sha...)

"HELL NO. THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GIRL'S NAME! EWWWW-"

"NAGI SIT DOWN!" Brad finally lost his patience and yelled at the teenager prancing across the ceiling, proving his point.

"WON'T!"

and so it went on for...quite some time...

(schllonk. Back to the present.)

Brad hustled the noisy members out of the house, down the staircase, across the long~ long~ pavement and into the car.Nagi was pestering him on the kiddie clothes again. Brad sighed as he slipped into the drivers seat.

""But I don't wanna look like some freak that came out of the seventies~!" Nagi wailed again. "Do you know what Minnie Mouse and Sailormoon mean?"

"No. What?" Brad was a little short on a temper. Oh look at the lovely day outside-- He raised the car keys to the ignition.

"Tell him, Farf."

"Minnie Mouse is an overgrown., mutated lab experiment and Sailormoon hurts--"

The car keys slipped from Brad's hand, landing with a soft tinkle of metal, on the car floor.

Nagi and Farfello paused, anticipating some violent outburst from Crawford.

Brad sighed as a vision came again.

~~~~~~~~~It's vision time!~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His vision blurred as a white mist took over his vision. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether you're blacking out or having a vision. Nausea came over him, but disappated as his vision cleared. Let's see what the future holds...

He saw a large mall full of people... Ah, there was Schuldich , his red hair pretty eminent in the crowd. There were some figures following the pair, Souchiro and Schuldich... Hurrying through the crowd, there were dark-clothed figures distinctively moving after them.... They looked like normal people but he knew they were--

**********

Nagi looked at Farfello as both watched the semi-comatose leader daydream. Well, not exactly daydream, but he really did looked as if he stoned and toppled over.

"Did he just mumble something along the lines of 'affaffins'?

"Must've been your imagination. I thought he just snorted."

"Ah..."

**********

He could see the slight apprehension in Schuldich's eyes as he turned around to see them closing in. He tugged Souchiro-san off in another direction. they hurried past some shops into a -what the heck was that written over the shop- further down... The dark figures paused at the entrance of the shop, for some reason unable to go in. Brad smiled approvingly, at least Schuldich didn't use his telepathy.

**********

Nagi snickered. " Oh look, he's grinning..."

**********

The figures moved off, but another group re-congregrated at the entrance of the shop. Four VERY familiar figures... A red-head, a blond and two little--

Weiss...

Oh no, Schuldich was going to-- *wait. The bloody German could deal with them easily...* 

His vision blurred again as he sight moved to another time. He was in a room, full of steam, its walls wooden-planked and semi-darkened by moisture. As if floating through mist, he could see a vague shape lying in a pool of water...A familiar shape..red-hair..? Schuldich?!

*It can't be!*

He looked as if he was dead, but there was a slight moan as he moved slightly, his face wrenched up as if in pain. Where the heck was Souchiro-san...? Was she dead? Another figure moved in the steam, a glint of a knife--

************

Farfelo was thinking of tying Brad semi-long frinch into a ribbon when Brad sudden jerked up with a start, panting deeply, as if he'd run a mile long race. A REALLY long race. Schwarz members could all run around 20 km without panting. Which simply means that something must be really wrong...

Brad looked at them for a moment, his eyes wild and unseeing... His pupils refocused on the motley pair in the backseat. "Change of plans, we're going after Schuldich!" He turned back and jammed the car keys backinto the ignition form where he dropped them, revving the engine.

"Eh? Why?" Nagi's vioce was muffled over the roar of the car.

" Schuldich is going to get himeself killed, by a whole lot of assasins, dammit!" The trio sped off down the road, nearly killing a couple of pedestrians.

" Oh, so that's what the 'affaffins' meant...Are you sure? Most of the time you just want to kill Schu..."

" I WANT TO KILL HIM _MYSELF_!" Brad half-yelled as he swerved around a corner.

*****************

Schuldich was is great pain. Not beacause of anything meagre. It was just because of the bloody _high_ heels that he/she was wearing. Note; it wasn't just high heels, it was_ stilleto _heels. Enough to break the ankles of those wearing it and castrate whoever that person kicked. (winces.)

It didn't really matter though, what really matter was all the stares she was getting, striding down the wide corridors of the skylight mall. Really, really long stares. Souchiro was at her side, grinning as they went from one shop to the next. Our dear German was dressed to kill, literally; a daringingly cut leather dress showed the long expanse of his/her legs, neck and back... It didn't show much of the chest though, one of the reason why he picked out this dress. Best to spring the surprise on Braddy-boy... Her long hair was swept upwards in an elegant/rock sort of way,errant strands simply cascading down, framing his face.

They went pass several stores now, not really buying anything, just simply looking through the displays. It's been a while since Schu had this much fun... She pouted at a guy walking past, with near disasterous effects; the guy literally rammed himself into a pillar, stumbled past a couple of people and tumbled down an escalator. oooo... that gotta hurt.Now all attention turned to the poor guy making his way rather unusually down the perpetual-- Really shouldn't try that again.... NAH.

It piqued Scu's interest for a moment that ceratin persons did not turn their attentions away from her. Must be really interested heh? She turned a stunning smile at one of them. The ordinary looking man simply flushed but did not have any adverse reactions.

Schu turned his attention back to walking in the heels. One-two, one-two.... 

*wait a moment, that guy didn't do anything self-inflicting* He turned a suspicious eye on the man, whose mind he could still feel trailing them... He slipped into the man's mind for a moment --

*kill---*

-- Shit! A assass-- He could feels all the other minds closing in at the sight of her.

***END CHAPTER THREE***

************************

Author's notes: Sorry guys, this is such a short chapter.. you were supposed to have gotten to see Schuschu's past around here but it gott a tad long so I'm splitting it off into two chapters. Sigh. I have all the weird ideas and everything but it take bloody long to type it all out. Me type slow. 

v

e

r

y

s

l

o

w

sigh.

Spoiler: you wanna see how Schwarz deals with Weiss? They don't even have to fight 'em. Just lead them into certain shops and they finish themselves off. Tee hee.

SOMEBODY SHOOT ME. SIGH. COFFEE COFFEE COFFEEE~


	4. Chapter 4: Brad's Not Doing His Job

The Happy Family  
By Triggerhappy Maniac  
++A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction++ 

Chapter Four: Unforeseen Circumstances (Welcome to Dysfunctionality)

Author's Notes: Oh, god. I've made Brad's dad sound like a cross between David Copperfield and Cindy Crawford. Hello everyone... 

*blinkety blinkety blink*. Let's get on to the story. shall we? We cannot stand authors who simply spend far too much time on author notes. (*screams MASSIVE EGO*)

  
Let's go bother the Weiss Kittens again. (*evil laughter...* cough...did you hear something...? Must be my stomach.) 

**Better Than It Was=========**

Once I had it all planned out

My dirty fingers moved about

To make a mess of everything around me

I don't claim to know my way

I still run in circles everyday

Running around half blind

Life can be unkind

But it's better than it was

But it's better than it was

I complain very little because

It's much better than it was

**=============**_**Fastball All the Pain Money Can Buy**_

The red-head thought hard. Then grinned. Schuldich grabbed Souchiro by the arm. "Could we go to a spa or something? It's been long since I had any time to relax and I heard that Japan's --" Schu gave a expectant pause. He had no idea of what he was talking about. Not that deary Schu usually does, at any rate. 

The little office lady chirruped, unaware that they were being followed by a multitude of assassins. Lotsa assassins. So many assassins, you could line them up and play---nevermind...

" Oh! There's one on the first level, on the other side of the mall..." She giggled, " It's only for us ladies... The men have another on this side..." 

*Bingo!* The exact little place where they could hide... and not be disturbed by, um, men. Spas like that usually have bouncers hiding somewhere... Schu raised an eyebrow.* A women's spa, eh? I wonder what they have there...* And of course, devious Schu know that no respectable assassin would be seen ANYWHERE-- Oops, she felt on of the assassins' gaze fall on her, his mental sight appearing in her mind. Better get moving...

Schu smiled winsomely. " I think we should hurry, Braddy-chan doesn't really like me being out so long..." The redhead kept up the pace of conversation, linking an arm through Souchiro's, guiding her quickly to the nearest escalator. Trying the hell to get out of there, FAST.

"Why?" Souchiro looked surprised. *Eh? Scully-san looks so distracted...?*

Schu kept an eye out for the dark figures still following behind. She glanced over the side of the escalator as they descended, calculating the time needed to get to safety. Hurryhurryhurry~The redhead chaffed at the slow speed of --

Schu turned back to her, and smiled, "My husband is terribly over-protective at times... So I don't really have much time to go out--" He could feel their minds congregrating around the first level. Shit. Can't use telepathy right now...Too obvious... DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT. 

He could almost hear Brad's voice in her head, it familiar sarcasm eminent.*Of course, there was always the option of stripping naked and hoping that they all nosebleed to death. Or at least summon your hordes of admirers and -- *

Schu grinned. 

*Idiot. He's an idiot.*

He gave a casual glance upwards at the assassins_ innocently_ following her around. * I wonder what he's doing now...*

She grinned, " Maybe something constructively destructive..." 

Souchiro looked at her, "What?"

"Oh, nothing..."

*********************

The car screeched around the corner, running a red light. Cars honked violently as the Schwarz assassins sped down the street in the opposite direction.

" BRAAAAA~AAAD!!!! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US!?" Nagi yelled when he was squished into a corner as the force of the car flung the back seat passengers to one side. Farfie just giggled, wide-eyed.

Brad didn't seem to hear his question, " We're almost there!"

" I DAMN HOPE WE ARE!!! YOU WERE RIGHT!" Nagi yelled again as the car cut a corner sharply, flinging the two in the backseat to the other side. 

"What did you say?" Brad semi-yelled back.

" I WANT TO KILL SCHU _MYSELF_!!!"

**********************

Aya's eyes narrowed as he observed the situation below. He turned his radio knob. " Abyssianian here. Target spotted. Approaching level one." He eye tracked the red-head as he descended the escalator. For some reason, there was a nagging feeling that there was something wrong about the figure below...

" Siberian, can you confirm that this is the target?"

A hiss of static before Ken's voice came over the earphone. "Uh, yeah, sure looks like Mastermind all right."

He quietened his suspicions. He could always trust Ken's judgement. Tracking the figure, he raised the sniper rifle to his shoulder, placing a eye against the dark barrel of the sight. Then, he frowned.

" Abyssinian here. Are there any other assassins on this case as well?"

**********************

Four more levels to go. Schu was getting impatient with the _bloody_ escalator. He looked casually to a side and stretched his mind out, emcompassing the space of the mall. How many wanted to kill him...? *One ...Two...*

A minute later...

*Thirty-one...Thirty-two...*

*Oh CRAP.*

As they pair slowly reached the next level, Schu pulled Souchiro off to a side, heading for the escalator. " It's kinda crowded over there isn't it? I think we better take the elevator, ne?" 

*************************

" Wow Brad, I didn't know you could find valet parking when we're in such a hurry." Nagi growled sarcastically as he stumbled out the back door. Hanging on it for balance. Now aside from Schuldich, whom he swore never to hitch a ride from EVER again, there was Brad... *Urk. Feel like puking up.....* The trio(minus Nagi) literally leapt out of the car. Brad tossed the keys and a couple of notes to a shocked bellboy. 

Nagi made his way behind them, " How the heck do you know that Schu's here? I DO know that your visions don't come with labelled addresses--"

"Always trust Schuldich to pick the most expensive place to shop. And this is the only one with valet parking." Brad scanned the area. The masses of people wandering and out of the mall were going to be a problem...

"Ah. I should have known." Farfie placed a sympathic hand on Nagi's back. Nagi looked a little green. The kid muttered, "never-never ever let anyone _else_--"

Brad began in a new direction, heading into the huge mall.

"Let's go." 

*************************

Author's note: You know what? Brad's right. It's the same mall.

*************************

Schu hurried the little Japanese lady along. There were lot's of them. Them assassins. * Jeez, it's like the World Conference of Happy People in here..* Schu muttered darkly.

" We're there~!" The two stopped at a Japanese-styled Spa., its doorway draped with two large pieces of white cloths, stating in japanese characters the name of the place. 

It was huge. 

*Whoah.* Schu blinked as she surveyed the place. "and Women only? This place could fit half the--" A movement beind her caught her eye. Another of _them_. The man picked his way casually through the crowd.

"Souchiro-san? Let's go in~!" Schu literally dragged the lady behind him. The lady at the register looked up expectantly. As Souchiro requested for a place for two, the German eyed the man behind them, as he milled hesitantly outside the entrace of the spa with the sign, LADIES ONLY nice, loud and bright beside him. It looked as if a force field was keeping him out. 

*Teehee, ZAAAAP. Teehee.* The look on his face was one of half-horror and outrage. Some people looked curiously at him. 

"This way please," the lady stepped out from behind the counter, leading the pair on, deeper into the fortress of women.

Schu turned around, winked and blew the man a kiss.

She could hear him give a howl of frustration.

She giggled.

***************************

"I'm calling the operation off, guys." Omi spoke into the miniature microphone near his mouth. " There's something fishy about all this. Meet on the first level in two minutes." Mumbled answers came through his earphones. He wandered around the massive crowd of people, trying to blend in. Moments later he heard distinctive footsteps behind, recognisable as Ken-kun's. He turned around as Ken made his way foward, pushing past some people.

-What's the matter?Why are you calling off the operation?- He mouthed the words at Omi.

Omi replied -Aya said that there was something wrong...-

Youji appeared out of the crowd, looking puzzled. -I lost Mastermind, anyway...-

-Let's wait for Aya-kun then- Omi mouthed back at both of them, when~

***************************

The remaining members of Schwarz made their way through the crowd. Brad paused. There were some very peculiar people in the mass of people milling around... Some of the very peculiar persons were trying very hard to be inconspicuous, but heck, with Braddy looking at them, you could literally see a couple of them bolt in the opposite direction, heralding the presence of the assassin group.

"There," Brad pointed at one fleeing assassin," we're going to follow him."

" Eh? Why?" Nagi REALLY didn't want to chase after some stupid idiot, especially not when his stomach was churning like the inside of --

Brad just _looked_ at him.

" Okay, _okay_! I'm moving! I'm moving!" Nagi made an effort to press through the crowd, grying to get away from the glowering Brad. Anything was better then Brad's GET-YOUR-BUTT-MOVING-NOW-OR-ELSE _look_. Heck, ANYTHING was better than Brad.

But~ in his hurry to get-the-hell-away, he didn't notice--

"OOF!"

"OWW!"

Two rocks--um, I mean, heads, cracked together, Their owners crying out in pain or surprise, or maybe, both. Nagi grabbed his precious head as it rang like a bell. AAAAAAAAAAARGH~ What the HECK JUST HIT-- He stumbled away, creeking an eye open at--

Omi. Who happened to be in a similar position.

Pause. 

"WHAT THE SHIT?!"

"WHAT THE SHIT?!"

Pause.

Brad looked surprised as both of them yelled, as did Farfie, Ken and Youji. Both groups just stared at each other. 

Before realisation dawned on all faces on all sides---

Nagi squeaked, " WEISS?!"

Omi yelped, "SCHWARZ?"

Then, Schwarz, as a natural assumption, finely decided by all members in a rare moment of silent, mutual and total agreement--

--Scrammed off in every other possible direction. 

****************************

Schuldich sighed as he slipped out of the dress. The pair was in a private changing room, adjacent to a huge tub readily steaming away. She stripped, pulling on a fluffy white dressing gown that hung near the door. * Oh my goodness, that felt good...* The heels were _really_ killing her. The redhead smirked for a moment; *So if you really wanna kill someone, make 'em wear heels.* Then, she thought of Brad. 

And shuddered.

* Okay, no more tipsy thoughts....* She looked over at Souchiro, who was already dressed in the bathrobe. " So, how long did you book this place for?"

No answer.

" Souchiro-san?" Schu turned around. *What's up with her?*

Souchiro frowned for a moment, before dreamily turning away, continuing out the door. Schu glanced at her, tying the waistband on. 

" Wait up, where are you going? Did you forget something...?" 

Souchiro slowly meandered away, as though possessed. Schu poked her head out the door as Souchiro moved further down the empty corridor. 

*Eh? There was something up with that woman... Well, with office ladies, you can't really tell. Brad always said they were rabid, at any rate.... Nah.. Must be Brad.* The little office lady was acting rather peculiarly *... But heck, compared to Farf, it's normal...*

Souchiro paused for a moment, turning back slightly, speaking as if through a fog, "... I ....have to go get something....."

" Uh, oka~ay..." Schu looked suspicious, but she turned back and slid the door shut anyway. " Might as well start first...." The tub REALLY looked inviting. No wonder Brad perpetually complained about women. Wasting thousands of yen on such frivolities... Heh. What did he know? He wasn't female. And HE didn't have to dress up like a nice little girlie for his parents. Schu pouted a little as she stood over the tub, poking a testing toe into the water. 

It was years since she ever relaxed, running off somewhere for recreation, without Brad, Farf and Nagi-kins. Those three were ever around him. You always had to look out; things and people were always finding ways to take your head off, or stab you in the back, or _anything_. Heck, he had no idea why he was relaxing now, in the middle of a rather explosive situation, but hell,-- Been a long time. Hm. Water's a bit hot for his taste... He frowned a little. Was he supposed to take off his underwear before going into the tub, or was he supposed to wear 'em in, or was he supposed to just jump in with the bath robe...? 

* Man, must really ask some lady about all this lady stuff....*

********************************************************

A man, a different man, stood at the entrance to the womens spa. Souchiro meandered dreamily to him. Her eyes blank. 

She stopped momentarily before him, as he whispered, his voice heavily accented.

"Lead me to Schuldich."

********************************************************

He heard the door slide open. Ah, must be Souchiro, back from some escapade... He turned around to the see the little office lady in the doorway--

--with the an Assassin right behind her.

Not a normal assassin, but one of _the_ Assassins.

From Esset.

***************************************

Farfello squeezed through the crowd as fast as he could. Ken was right behind him, bumping akwardly into everyone, getting a few angry glares here and there. Our dear Farfie might be in a bit of a fix. Brad didn't let him bring his knives along. Farfie wailed mentally, his _wittle_ knives... He spotted a huge departmental store to his right and squeezed over towards the entrance. Ken bounced up and down. catching glimpses over the heads of the crowd, trying to keep track of his target.

There were a lot less people inside the store, as Farfie stumbled in, most of them women, shopping for cooking utensils, pots, pans, etc--

Farfello was deranged but not stupid, being profoundly able to think his way through _any _situation. His mind sped through various escapes, finally deciding on the --

--The cooking section. Ah HA! 

***********************

Author's notes: *Huh?* 

***********************

There were several peculiar glances from some of the women as the Farf slowed down to a trot and composed himself, striding along as though merely window shopping.(wait, do men do window shopping?) Behind him, Ken stumbled through the entrance as he had done, looking akwardly out of place.

The Irishman turned back for a moment and gave him a toothy smirk-- and moved directly towards the knives section towards the back.

Ken's eyes widened. * SHIT!* He picked up the pace as he hurried after the madman. * SHIIIIT! If he gets his hand s on those--* He pushed past some women, watching a cooking demonstration. The Berserker was --right in front of him in the crowd. Almost within reach--

He lunged with all his might, his hands outreached , stretching---

The lady leading the demonstration was asking for volunteers to help her with the cooking---

Ken snagged the back of the Berserker's clothes, applying all his force to bring his target down--

-- and the pair crashed through the front of the crowd, right in front of the cooking table, with Ken landing heavily on the Irishman. The two thudded heavily on the solid marble floor. 

*winces*

All eyes turned to look at the motley pair that so willingly offered themselves up to the lady. Ken blinked up at the ceiling as Farfie said hello face-first to the nice hard floor.

The lady, unfazed by their less-than-usual entrace, simply raised an eyebrow. " Well?" 

Ken blinked up at the lady looking over the table at the both of them. Ooooo, that hurt...."Well, what?" He groaned.

" Which one of you is going to help me?" Ken blinked again."Cooking demonstration? Any voluteers? Ding-a-ling, ring a bell?" She narrowed her eyes, " I can't wait all day." Ken stared at the woman again. Well... she WAS very pretty, her blue eyes cool as she looked down at the pair. Ken's head hurt. Thinking was simply too much for him." Um...uh..."

" I will." Farfie pushed himself off the floor, with a smile on his face, and himeself barely bruised. Dusting himself off, he stepped over the horizontal Ken. Ken made an effort to grab his ankle and missed, glaring angrily at Berserker, * What the shit is he gonna do to that lady?!* He quickly picked himself up from the floor, in time to see--

--Of all things, the lady just passed the madman a knife. A chopping knife. Pointing at the chopping board covered with vegetables and meat. She was saying--

--" NOOOOO!" Ken yelled. The lady looked up, cut short in her instruction of the Farf. Everybody looked at Ken. Who was turing a little red at all the attention.... Farfello grinned while the lady looked irritated. 

" Would you mind keeping quiet?" She bit out pointedly.

Ken shrank back. Shit. That Berserker was smart. Crazy, but smart. He resided back into the first row, fingering his bugnuk. The Irishman's golden eye glinted at him, as if saying;

_I know _everything_ you're going to do..._ Ken shuddered as a cold chill came over him.

If guns and knives won't stop an assassin, embarrassment will.

The lady looked back to her 'assissant' as he stood behind the table alongside her. Sure, he looked a little strange, but it was normal -- there was a J-rock competition being held somewhere in the mall, and he sure looked geared up for it... 

" Well?" The man's accented voice broke through her reverie. She looked back down at the chopping board. " Um, I want you to fillet that fish."

He looked at her peculiarly. Eyebrow raised.Oh, yeah, she just remembered. All men were cooking illiterate. " I mean, cut the skin off, remove all the meat from the bones--"

Farfie, with the massive shiny chopping knife, swiftly stripped the skin and scales off the poor mackeral, expertly slitting the flesh from the bones, drawing admiring murmurs from the crowd at his confident expertise.Ken just shuddered further, rocking back and forth in nervousness..* oh god oh god oh god that poor lady~*

*Wow. This guy is fast.* The lady barely finished her instruction before she stared down at the fillets. She continued--

Moments later, all the vegetables were swiftly dispatched by courtesy of the Farf. Who grinned. It was kinda fun. At least this nice lady let him use her knife. 

Ken stared wide-eyed at the nutto behind the cooking counter. The madman was playing with him. Toying with him, like a cat with a mouse.

Was he going to grab the lady and hold her hostage? Ken was beginning to sweat...

Farfie grinned again. He was learning how to cook.

**************************************

--An Assassin.

Schuldich steeled himself as the man entered. He was not japanese, though his descent was unclear. His eyes drew the German's attention. Green glittering eyes, so much like her own. The redhead drawled.

"Well met, _Assassin."_

The man's face stretched into a grotesque mimicry of hers. "Well met, _Mastermind_."

This man would be powerful, on of the top assassin teams like Schwarz. Though Schwarz was the Peak, the Topmost, there were others... almost as powerful. 

"I've heard about you, _Mastermind_. " The humid, smoky atmosphere of the room grew taut as the two opponents eyed each other. " They say you are the Manipulator, the cold, heartless and ruthless one. I will not presume to fight you on your grounds, like a telepath should."

*Ah, he's a telepath too...*

"But I feel, that I can play the game of manipulation as well as one so experienced as you."

Schu's voice cut through his mind, emphatic. *Cut out the Shakespheare crap and get to the point will ya?*

********************************

It was embarrassing.

To Brad, running away from the enemy was nothing, he'd done it a few times.

But to run away in a Gucci suit, now god that was _embarrassing_.

People looked on as a redhead chased the tall American through the crowd, shoving a path. Brad glanced behind, and sped around a corner.

Aya followed him like a leech--

--And stopped short. Before him was a long corridor, with painted walls. 

Empty. The Oracle was nowhere to be seen.

The redhead jogged further down the corridor, senses alert for any attack. He turned again and found himself facing three doors. Without thinking, he rushed into the one on the left.

*********************************

Brad opened the door of the storage room when the screaming started. The storage room was the door in the middle...

And the Men's room on the _right._

Brad shook his head as he leisurely made his way back out the corridor. 

*Seriously, could anyonebe _that _stupid...?*

*********************************

*--And the STUPID asshole could TELEPORT!*

The Assassin reappeared right behind him, though Schu dodged out of the way so quickly that he almost seemed to appear simultaneously as the other did. The man looked shocked for a moment. He disppeared again. Schu waited for the instant when he reappeared, slipping right behind him. The Assassin blinked. *eh?*

The German swung a high kick at the man's head, connecting with a sickening -CRACK- His mind frizzled for a moment, allowing the redhead an smooth opening into his mind. Seizing the reins of power, Schu set a course for the man--

--a moment later the man disppeared. 

And a hand appeared, sticking out of the wall. Fingers wiggling.

Our German made a funny face. "That's absolutely disgusting."

********************************

Nagi skidded into the main Atrium, with the youngest member of Weiss right behind him. Forcing his way into the crowd, he made his way towards the stage, where he hoped that he could lose Omi. On the stage were a few weird guys prancing around in some weird getup---

---waiiiiiiit a moment. Did that just look like J-rock?...---

Nagi stopped in his tracks. A loud speaker boomed high above, causing him to wince. " WELSOME TO OUR ANNUAL J-ROCK CELEBRITY LOOKALIKE CONTEST!!! WE WELCOME ANYONE, WHO'S ANYONE TO GET UP HERE AND SING! -BLAHBLAHBLAH-"

Omi winced. His ears could take explosions, women and his teamates' quibbling, but not _this_--

"BLAHBLAHBLAH--"

-- the overenthusiastic crowing of an attemptedly genki girl into a mike at full volume.

Someone grabbed his arm, causing him to look up. He saw Nagi, causing him to freeze.

Nagi yelled over the din of the crowd. " I'll let you turn me in, only under one condition!!!"

"What?" Omi yelled back.

"I'm giving you an once-in-a-lifetime chance here!!!"

"WHAT's THAT?"

"You go up on that stage and sing!!!"

"WHAAAAAAAAAA-AAAAT???" The thought of facing the crowd of mad screaming fangirls cause the young assassin to feel faint. 

"If I beat you in ratings, I get to go scot free!!!"

"HELL NONONONONONONONONONONONOOONONO!!!"

***********************************

Author's notes: and so Nagi escapes again, beating Omi with a clear differemce in votes (100 : 1). Which proves villains can sing and good guys can't. Does anybody actually like the songs of Weiss Kreuz? It sounds as if all the cast members (Weiss only) are singing. Badly.

Does SchuSchu have a theme song?

**********************************

Schu sank into the warm water of the tub, steam rising from the heated water. 

*Ahhhhh, this is life.....* She wiggled her toes in pleasure. Souchiro still stood at the door, her expression still dazed, unaware of her surroundings. Schu had given up trying to revive her (smack smacks smacks~), intending to relish this rare moment of relaxation all by himself, without the incessant chatter of office women (woman in this case, really.). He streatched his mind out, checking for more uninvited guests. He blew bubbles under the water--

--and spurted a mouthful. *What the CRAP? Brad-Farf-Nagi-Weiss ALL HERE??? why?! why?! WHY?! on my day off!* He grumbled in abject misery as he sank under the surface of the water again. -grumbles- At least the thoughts coming from his teammates were reassuring, while Weiss' were all scrambled. Like eggs. He chuckled under the water, his hair floating, counting his time limited as he figured that the Oracle making his way to the women's only Spa. We wish him all the luck in getting in. Schu then decided to peek in on Brad's mind.

*Brad, have I told you where I am?* The telepath's voice sound lazily in the precog's mind.

*No.* Brad's mental reply was curt. He was hurrying through crowds of people, his head poking out above the crowd as he searched for his team members. Who just happened to be scattered across the face of the earth.*Give me a hand here.*

*Well here's one, "have fun finding me".*

*...damn you...*

Schu laughed.

**********************************

Schu drifted off dreamily. The warmth of the bath was getting to her, fogging up her senses. She turned her attention away from scrutinising the wriggling hand on the wall. Leave the Assassin to figure out his way out of this one.

Curling up like a contented cat, she fell asleep.

**********************************

Author's notes: Gear UP! first official attempt at writin' something serious!!! TAKE NUMBER ONE!!! LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTIOOOOOOOOOON!!! * and then the monkey flips the switch--*

*********************************

_Cover the face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young._

_ John Webster_

_It was very long ago. _

_For someone only so young, each moment was like an eternity. And with each moment a forever, twenty two years is so...tiring. _

_The only thing is that you can never rest._

_It was snowing again outside, white evident through the dirty glass window. A woman huddled near a heater for warmth, along with three other people. The room they were in was empty, except for a small stove, cold and black in the corner. The family of four slept close to the ancient heater as it rattled through the mid-morning hours, causing the youngest child to stir for a moment._

_The babe blinked sleepily as she snuggled closer to her mother's warmth._

_A door below banged. Men's voices rose rough and grating through the thin concrete floor, jolting the other three to reluctant wakefulness. The mother sat up slowly as the child clung to her, her eyes now wide as unknown feeling surged through her small world. _

_Heavy boots thumped up the wooden staircase, as the coarse voices came closer. A sudden bang on the thin board door sent fear, reaching past the fog of sleep, into the older three. The babe watched, uncomprehending._

_They burst into the cold small room, the dark-coated forbidding men. The woman let out a shriek as she shot to her feet. An argument ensued, the woman pleading for more time, more _time_, to pay them. One of the men let out a heinous remark; take the child._

_The woman screamed as the men reached for her, her husband placing himself between his family and-- only to have his lean frame knocked away by an unyielding fist. The son launched himself at the men, receiving a painful reward to his efforts. _

_The child was snatched away, wrenched from her mother's grasp as she was flung to one side, sobbing and desperately reaching out for her babe._

_The child screamed._

_*************************************_

Schuldich's head slid under the water as she struggled, her hands unknowingly pushing her off to the center of the bath.

She sank further.

***********************************

Brad rushed through the crowd, scanning rows of shopfronts over the crowd. *Where in the world is that idiot?!* Brad was getting frantic. The vision loomed in his mind_-_

_-He looked as if he was dead, but there was a slight moan as he moved slightly, his face wrenched up as if in pain--_

He hurried even more. The future was not fixed, the future was never fixed.

But he had to be there to change it.

**********************************

The lady was very nice. She packed up the little sushi in a little tupperware box as the Farf watched, almost childlike in his anticipation. They had finished the cooking demostration on how to make salmon sushi, the last remaining audience was--

Ken , who was staring at the both of them. *oh god oh god oh god*

Farfello was a very polite person, sanity albeit a little off center. He thanked the lady very nicely, spun on his heel and sped off again.

Ken gave chase.

**********************************

Brad Crawford ran past a Spa. What caught his eye were the pseudo-familiar Japanese characters. Not that he had seen them before but it ---just--seemed--so... He stopped suddenly, eyes narrowed. *Waiiit~ a moment...* He made a move toward the shopfront, but was uncerimoniously stopped by the -WOMEN ONLY- sign. 

*...dammit...* He could almost bet his reputation that Schudich came in here. Except in this case, he won't have any reputation left after venturing in there. * Damn you Schuldich. If I'm labelled a pervert or a phedophile or any of the non-normal people that I'm so sure you keep company with... Damn you Schuldich!*

No answer.

*...* Brad took a deep breath as he strode forward to the counter. The lady looked up, surprised. " Good morning, Sir....are you a Miss or a Mister?"

"_What?_"

The receptionist repeated, " Are you a Miss or a Mister? We occasionally have customers who look like men, and vice versa..."

Brad's eyebrow twitched. " Excuse me, but I am looking for my wife. Is there a Miss Souchiro or a Miss Schully *snickers* listed on your register?"

She looked down for a moment. "Ah yes, we have a Miss Souchiro checking in with another guest in here earlier. But I'm sorry, you have to wait till she's done. Our company has a customer policy of not disturbing our guests till their treatment is over."

Lucky for him, Brad has acting skills. " _Please_, I have to see her now! It's very urgent!" He put on his most impatient expression, along with the slight posing of a caring----male counterpart (Brad simply cannot bring himself to say-husband-). The lady looked suspicious.

"I'm sorry sir, I simply cannot allow you to--"

"_Please_! You don't understand!" He leaned slightly over the counter, "She's _suicidal_!"

**********************************

Souchiro slowly worked herself out of a daze. She was standing in the room, in her bath robe. She shook her head, a little confused, what just happened? One moment she was following Scully-san in to the room.... She shook her head again. Nevermind...

Where was Schully-san anyway? Oh well... Souchiro made her way to the bath tub, *may as well start first...* She was busy untying the knot at her waist as she approached the bath. She looked up.

And screamed.

********************************

A scream resounded down the corridor to the reception counter. Brad's eyes widened as he surmised, " _Schu_?!" He dodged past the pestering receptionist and raced down the corridor. A door ahead opened, and a bath-robed Souchiro stumbled out, her hands clasped over her mouth. " Souchiro-san!"

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. "_Crawford-san_!" She turned back to look at the room and pointed a slow trembling finger. " Schully-san... Schully-san...She's ...She's _dead_!"

"_What_?!" Brad ducked into the steaming room, tryig to see through all the mist. He ran foward, banging his shin into a raised platform. He clambered up to stand at the edge of the bath. 

And there in the steaming water lay Sculdich. His lithe form still as if dead. 

The body floated face-up, the wrenched-up expression fixed on his face. *Oh god, not you Schuldich...* He stared in shock. He waded into the bath, his pants legs clinging to him. He slid his hands under the mass of scarlet strands and attempted to lift the body out of the water. The dripping bathrobe clung to the German's form as he was carried out of the bath to the side. 

Brad was trying to lie the telepath's head down gently when he gave a little cough. Not Brad, _Schu_. Brad dropped the redhead's head where it THUMPed on the floor. The German sat bolt upright with a yelp of pain. *OW!*

Brad narrowed his eyes. " Schuldich, for a professional, you sleep like a ton of bricks."

*Yeah, yeah. Whatever.* Schu rubbed the back of his head. *Be a little more gentle, will ya?*

" Well, is that anything for someone who nearly drowned in the bath, _sleeping_, of all things?" Brad shot back. " My pants are wet."

"So? I'm the one who nearly drowned in the bath, _per se_." Schuldich blinked the water out of his eyes. Water or tears?

" We better get moving. You nearly gave Souchiro a heart-attack. Erase this incident from her, get that?" Brad strode out of the room, his pants slapping against his legs. Souchiro peered cautiously into the room and caught sight of the redhead sitting up. Alive and well.

"SCHULLY-san!!!!" She squealed. Schu winced. "I thought you drowned!"

" Sorry, I have this tendency to fall asleep..." Schu pushed herself off the floor, making her way to the changing area, slightly furious and embarrassed. Souchiro followed.

"Crawford-san was so _worried_!" she continued.

Schu looked at her flatly. " That's _impossible_. The idiot doesn't care for anyone but himself."

"How can you _say_ that?" The officelady gushed as the redhead pulled on her dress and stilletos, looking nothing short of stunning with her dripping red hair. " He--"

Schu turned around and looked her in the eyes. " --just doesn't care if any of us dies. It's a _fact_." *Forget this, forget everything, forget Brad Crawford.* Souchiro fell back into a daze.

The German swept up her bags as she swiftly exited the room. * And don't we all love him for that?*

**************************************

Schu caught up with Brad as they walked away from the spa. The German looked at him pointedly. * You look ridiculous.* Brad continued to stride along, unperturbed. " I am very sure I don't." 

"Your pant's wet." The redhead tried very hard to catch up in her heels. Brad ignored him.

*Brad?* The telepath's voice poked cautiously into his head.

" What?" Brad's voice was clipped short.

* You're are going to bump into--* Brad suddenly bumped into--

-- a panting, scratched-from-head-to-toe, bruised Aya. Ametheyst eyes darkened. " _You_, Oracle, are so dead..."

*********************************************

An out-of-breath Omi clutched at a stitched side as he slowed down. He had been chasing Nagi through the crowds for the las twenty minutes. And -dammit- Nagi was nowhere to be seen. He raised a hand to his radio tranmitter, and tapped. " Hello, is anyone there?" 

Youji's fuzzy voice greeted him. " Yeah, I'm here."

"Did you see anybody yet?"

"Uh...naw. Wait. I see Aya talking to someone. OMYGOD IT'S ORACLE~!!!"

Omi shouted into the microphone, "I'm coming over!"

And people around him wondered why he was talking to himself.

*********************************************

Schuldich eyed the angry Aya. Who was trying to glare daggers up at Crawford. Although that didn't look really threatening, Schu knew best. * Brad, I think we better get going~*

Brad shot back. * How?! If I make a move, this idiot here will draw out his katana or any availble weapon, yell "Dieeeee~!" and attempt to hack me to pieces. Not to mention it'll attract the attention of EVERYBODY AROUND HERE!*

*Correction: He looks as if he's going to grab your head and gnaw it to bits, katana or not.* Schu stepped foward, pulling Brad back. 

She looked Aya in the eye ---

--and stomped on his foot. "Leave my Braddykins alone!"

*********************************************

Omi and Youji ran over to where they last say the raging Aya. He was gone.. And then they stepped on something soft.

"Umph." ------They looked down to see an Aya curled up in pain.

"Oh my crap, what happened to you?!"

Aya mumbled something and curled up further. 

" What did he say?' Youji leaned down further. Aya mumbled again.

"He said something about Brad Crawford's girlfriend killing him with her stiletto heels."

Both Omi and Youji winced.

********************************************

Author notes: Weeelll, Lost a bit of humour around the middle...*smacks self, smacks smacks smacks* Soooo sorry, didn't post for so long. At least I finished the shopping part... Can't wait to get started on what Schwarz's gonna do in America though... there's a little extra for all of you-- the next part a little too serious for my taste, but it really gets the next chapter going. 

A little hint: Schwarz is now the world's most hunted assassin group, enemies include the Japanese goverment, Esset and all other authorities. And the American CIA knows that they are going to America...

Guess who's Brad's Dad?

*eh-hehhehhehheh.*

*******************************************

David Crawford sat silently in his office at his empty desk.

Bullet-proof windows  
Hidden cameras   
Black microphones.

His face remained emotionless as he listened to the empty whirr of the air conditioner. He looked down as he opened a drawer, and took out a photo frame. The sun glinted as light glanced off the faces of his family members beaming gently out at him, his new son, James, fifteen years old, a new daughter, Cher, sixteen, both adopted. And his wife, Janice Crawford.  
His eyes changed as he turned the frame around removing the latch to the back cover of the stand. He lifted it gently, revealing a faded, yellowed photograph of a nine-year-old boy, staring solemnly at the photographer, being caught unawares. Dark ebony hair, deep red-brown eyes, the palest white skin he'd ever seen.  


Missing for over a decade.

Brad had come to them from a Californian orphange, a freak that other children avoided, because he was strange. When he met his son, the boy looked right through his soul, piercing him with those scarlet-brown eyes, questioning. An angelic child nobody wanted.   
They'd sworn to love him, protect him, care for him.

His greatest failure.  
He had lost him.

Over a decade ago. David was the top agent of the CIA, the most trusted, the most dangerous. Now he was the Head of it, controlling the lives of the law. He was promoted at a prestigious ceremony at the White House, a fantastic dream come through for a man who dreamed.   
Shaking the President's hand in front of Nation-wide TV.  
He'd hoped that Janice was watching.  
He'd hope that Brad was watching.

He was so proud.

  
He rushed home in expectation after the event, to be hugged by congratulatory family, a small celebration. Instead, he found a police car outside his house, a police woman comforting a sobbing Janice. David looked in uncomprehendingly. She couldn't stop them, she said, the men who took Brad away.

  
Took Brad away.  
Took his angelic child away.

  
Maybe it was a kidnapping; so he told himself as he searched desperately, for the kidnappers. He hated, despised them so, so much. It took years before he gave up. He waited days for a ransom note when there was none. He told himself like he told many others, others who waited in hope for the missing loved one to returned, He's dead. 

So ironic, the protector of the law could not even defend his own child. He had wept brokenly over the grave of his lost one. He's dead.

He traced a tender finger over those familiar features, careful not to damage the only reminder he had of the lost little boy. He smiled for once at the picture, which had been viewed with only sadness for many years. The silent, thoughtful, kind child.  
He received an email from the other side of the void. It brought waves of emotion crashing down on him again. 

  
He was alive.

  
He was suspicious, could this be an imposter, pretending to be his child? Janice was too believing, insisting that he send a reply at once. She even wrote it out for him. He dallied a few weeks before sending it. He needed time to get things ready. There were many people out to get him, he was too important to the government. Or was it that he couldn't bear to bring out the ghosts again...?

He could not believe that Brad was alive. There was no one, no one other than his family that knew of the existance of Brad.  
There would be agents flanking the family while they wait to greet this 'Brad Crawford'. If he was a fake, they would leave. And the imposter would be dealt with.   
He carefully covered up the photo again, sliding the the frame back into a drawer.   
He wouldn't know what to do if the email was true. It wouldn't do to get his hopes up.

  
If it was, he would see Brad again.  
Conflicting thoughts clashed in his heart as he prepared for the arrival. 

The pain of looking at an imposter who looked like Brad, or--  
The return of his son. 

He desperately wished for the latter.

*******************************************************************END Chapter IV**

Triggerhappy Maniac: WOOOOOHOOOO! NOW TO GET THE PARTY STARTED!!!!!

Next Chapter: _Smith & Wesson_, and Me  



	5. Chapter 5: Schu Bosa Nova

The Happy Family  
  
-A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction-  
  
Author's Notes: I would like to dedicate this chapter to the last person, phsyko who reviewed this fic. It's been months since I last updated this story and pretty much gave up on it because it was getting hard to type on a bloody slow computer with no spell check. Yes, I do not have Microsoft word. Instead, the home XP version has some crappy text programme with NO SPELLCHECK.  
  
Oh. The HORRORs!  
  
Instead, too embarrassed to get my sister to edit, I tried to edit by myself. Hence the numerous grammar mistakes in the last few chapters. Bleah. Really spoils the reading material. So, I give full rein to anyone, underscore that, ANYONE, to flame me according to the extent of grammar damage unto this fic. Now, back to that lovely, looooovely person. He/she made me feel happy. I have not gotten any reviews for the last thousand years since I began my languish in the isolation of 10kbps dial-up internet access. The light of my life!   
  
Once again I will repeat: Thank you so much for that review!!!  
  
======Chapter Five: Schu Bosa Nova========================  
  
All my bags are packed, it's early morn  
  
The taxi's waitin', he's blowing his horn  
  
I'd hate to wake you up to say goodbye  
  
'Cause I'm leaving on the Jetplane,  
  
Don't know when I'll be back again  
  
Oh, baby, I hate to go.  
  
==========================================================  
  
"No." Said Brad Crawford.  
  
"Please?" Asked Nagi.  
  
"No." Said Brad Crawford again. With a flat tone of voice and the finality of Armageddon to it.  
  
" Why not?" Asked Nagi, unaware that Armageddon might come a little earlier for him if he asked again.  
  
"It's too heavy." Replied Crawford. Flatly. With a touch of strain.   
  
" Why?"  
  
"LOOK, IF YOU--"  
  
Whywhywhywhywhy did yooooooooooouu leave me, leeeeeeeet meee goooo the German telepath sang from the bathroom above. Showering.  
  
"--nevermind." Brad turned away from the massive box on the coffee table. Nagi followed him.   
  
" So, can I bring it?"  
  
Orrrrr I wiiiilll neeever looooove yooou ANIII-mOOOOreeeee--  
  
"No." Brad mentally gritted his teeth and swore.   
  
"But w-h-y?"  
  
Farfello watched the duo from the corner of a very yellow eye, spooning milk and cereal into his mouth. Nagi was really stretching it. He decided to join in. The madman tapped his glistening spoon on the side of his bowl. It gave a delicate ringing, something along the lines of tink.  
  
-tinktinktinktinktinktinktinktinktinktinktinktinktink-  
  
Pleeeeeeeeeeease forgiiiiiiiive meeeeee, leeeeeeet meeeee gooooo  
  
"Why!?"  
  
Most men have their limits, and Brad Crawford was a man with a particularly short fuse. His succinct pronouncement reached the realms of even the mental--  
  
"SHUUUUUUT UP!!!"

  
  
Schuldich winced. What's up with him? He/she toweled the bright flame-coloured mop of hair as he regarded himself in the mirror. His mind felt two gleeful thoughts and one blazingly stormy one about the house. She stuck out a lower lip petulantly. Fancy Braddy getting all worked up over a stack of J-rock CDs... Wait. Correct that. Nagi's CD collection was not simply a stack, but a more accurate description of it would be a cargo crate of every song that every existed. Quite literally.  
  
Schuuuuuu, Brad won't let me bring my cds... Nagi's voice intruded into the redhead's thoughts. The telepath sighed.  
  
Darling boy, if you bothered to take your CDs out of their covers, maybe the crate holding your collection need not be ridiculously massive.  
  
But I DID! Schuldich paused. Nagi ought to be restricted from CD stores from now on...  
  
And how big is that crate again?  
  
It's not that big! I can still carry it! Nagi whined.  
  
Not with your scrawny arms, Nagikins. Nagi huffed. And puffed. And went to his room to sulk.  
  
Schu hummed a merry tune as she wrapped the towel around her waist, exiting the bathroom. Laid out earlier on the bed was the outfit she picked out for the journey. The tank top was a rich velvety brown, with a deep cream-coloured pinstripe skirt with pleats. Pretty decent, not to mention that the outfit will expose to the onlooker the tanned and lithe expanse of her arms and legs. And, with regard to coquettish fashion, a black lace butterfly with loose leather straps masqueraded as a casual choker.  
  
The room was devoid of any decoration now, most of it thrown out the day before. The once cluttered room was empty, cast with a twilight pall. The wardrobe, too, was empty, its contents packed into two modest suitcases parallel on the bedcovers. Ladies' travel bags, it seemed, seemed distinctively female as well.  
  
All their weapons have been discarded too. A peaceful life did not need those. No more killing, no more fighting, the dark underworld that they have known all their lives will be replaced with one filled with sunlight. Schuldich had no idea what to expect.  
  
Maybe there'll be a beach... She slipped into her clothes and strapped on her heels. A last pose at the mirror ensured her that the impact she wanted to have was fully and truly conveyed. She smirked, the redhead in the mirror gave a Cheshire cat grin in return.  
  
Everybody, the Supermodel is in da building.

  
  
Everyone was packing.   
  
Farfello was already downstairs, finishing a last meal before setting off. His bags were already packed and placed in the living room. Well, more correctly, it was one small suitcase. All that he had in the world. The small case contained several suits of clothes, minus knife collection, minus self-torture instruments, minus gory memorabilia.  
  
Sigh.  
  
A pity, really, the knives took him years to collect, stealing and smuggling. A horrible rule, that knives weren't allowed through customs... what if he needed to dismember someone? He sighed again as he finished up the last portion of his breakfast. He paused. And stared at his gleaming metal spoon.   
  
A spoon...  
  
A spoon! A spoon, if sharpened correctly( as only Farfie knew how), could easily double up as ...as.... He didn't waste any more thought as he rummaged through the kitchen drawers.Author's notes: Oh great. There go all the eating implements.Brad slid into a stiff pair of denim jeans. He decided to forgo his normal attire, Armani, Gucci and all, and decided on casual wear. He felt a little strange.  
  
In eighteen hours, he'll see his family again. After so many years. He wondered whether he would have any siblings. He wondered whether his parents had changed. He wondered whether the house they lived in was still there.  
  
His luggage lay open on the bed, containing papers, casual clothes, and only one Armani suit. He just couldn't resist bringing one along. After so many years on the job, the suits seemed like a second skin to him. Heck, even the sensation of casual wear was an alien feeling.  
  
The accounts were all ready, set up personally by the Schwarz leader himself. Enough funds to guarantee the four members a comfortable life in their new country. He had already registered Schwarz as American citizens, posing as foreigners with glowing records of successes and intelligence. Well, for the most of them anyway... Farfello was labeled as a chef.  
  
A new life in a new country. No more running and skulking in the dark. No more hiding. No more watching of backs, others' and his own. A place where he could relax. And forget. A place called home.  
  
Brad Crawford wanted to go home.  
  
He checked his immaculate image in the mirror then sealed his luggage, hoisting his bag out of the doorway when he caught sight of the telepath emerging from his room.   
  
His jaw dropped. 

  
  
The German shut the door behind her and looked up. And saw the sight that was guaranteed to cure all the sore eyes of the world.   
  
Brad Crawford in tight pants.  
  
Brad Crawford in rugged attire and tight pants. Tight denim pants. Tight blue jeans.   
  
Oh my... Look at him...   
  
Well, well...Nice butt Braddy baby...

Brad could not believe his eyes.   
  
Schwarz's redhead resident telepath has turned into a ...a... tall, alluring, svelte woman. The shock of flaming hair cradled a grinning face.  
  
Well, well... Nice butt Braddy baby...  
  
That comment shocked him back into reality. He tried to drill it into his shell-shocked mind. THIS was the ingratiating MALE German he had worked with, not some feminine...thing...  
  
He tore his eyes from the vision of beauty, and headed down the stairs, his expression stony. And couldn't shake the feeling that the telepath's eyes stayed glued to his bottom all the way down.

  
  
Nagi was overseeing a couple of deliverymen who were shifting the crate out the front door. Brad came down the staircase and looked at him without surprise. If Nagi was determined to bring his collection, he was damn sure resourceful enough to call DHL.  
  
Nagi blinked and said. "What?"  
  
Brad sighed.

  
  
The trip to the airport was uneventful enough. If one overlooked the fact that Nagi had to go back into the house twice to pick up his laptop then his PDA. The trunk was packed to the brim, stuffed with miscellaneous luggage. Schuldich sat up front with Brad as he drove, while Farfie and Nagi bickered in the back seats about a game on the latter's laptop.  
  
"How do I get past the green wall? I managed to get all the green tiles except for five of them." Nagi grumbled. Farfello snorted.  
  
" You're supposed to have four left, not five. Then you rearrange them."  
  
"I've been trying to get it down to four--oh wait. I got it..."  
  
"Stupid."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
They reached the airport with plenty of time to spare and leisurely checked in the luggage at the airline counter. Nagi held on stubbornly to his laptop and continued his game once the group was inside the departure hall. Farfello looked over his shoulder. Brad decided to settle on the seat beside them, with a convenient stack of newspaper.  
  
And that left Schu all alone to wander off by himself/herself. Muttering something about finding the Ladies' room. (Yes, in this story, people need to use the bathroom once in a while...) The redhead wandered past rows upon rows of duty-free shops that displayed anything and everything from chocolate to jewelry, looking for the bladder-saving sign. When she found one, she hurried inside.  
  
And paused.  
  
She quickly backed out, accompanied by sounds of suddenly indrawn breaths of men caught unawares. The German cursed under her breath as she stepped through the correct door this time. Dammit. I forgot...   
  
Looking at all the ladies inside the toilet, Schu faced a moment of disorientation. He was far too used to the male toilet, this being the first time in the females in a long while. She shook her head as she resisted the urge to back out the door again.  
  
Man, gotta get used to this.

  
  
Brad was getting a little impatient. The German was supposed to have returned ten minutes ago. He tapped his foot, irritated, as the intercom announced the boarding of their flight. He sent out a thought. Schuldich, you're late!   
  
A thought returned with an irksome feeling. I'm coming, I'm coming! It's not my fault that all the boarding areas look identical!   
  
Schu gritted her teeth as she hurried along as fast as he could on high heels. One day I'm going to break my legs when I fall from this height... She scanned the halls, attempting to trace the source of the leader's thoughts--  
  
--and came upon something rather peculiar.  
  
Brad, we have com-pany   
  
Brad Crawford raised his guard instantly. The others, seeing the shift in their leader's posture, followed suit.  
  
Who is it? Brad scanned the hall, gesturing to Nagi and Farfello to board first. The hall was crowded with people milling around, a general hum of conversation was in the air. His eyes darted from side to side as he tried to discern any suspicious face.  
  
An Esset agent. The thought paused. Well, now, agents.   
  
Nagi and Farfello were almost at the head of the queue, their faces expressionless as they got ready to hand their tickets to the stewardess.  
  
Have they spotted us?   
  
No, not yet. The voice went quiet, as if thinking. I think you better board without me. Brad was shocked at the suggestion, but didn't ask why.  
  
Trust me, I won't let myself get left behind. Unfortunately for me, my hair colour attracts way too much attention, and I'll end up leading them to you guys. So go first, I'll catch up later. Brad turned around and joined the queue, his eyes still trying to pick out enemies, hopelessly looking out for the familiar figure.Don't attract attention when you dispatch them. Brad sent out the thought by way of command.   
  
No, siree. A comforting smirk.  
  
The telepath had to improvise. She strode into one of the duty-free shops and quickly an item she needed: a woolen cap. Once outside the shop, she swept up her mass of flame-coloured hair, twisted it, then slipped the cap onto her head, effectively hiding her hair colour from view. The dark-coloured cap gave the impression that she had dark hair.  
  
Her mind sought out the nearest Esset agent.  
  
The ordinary-looking man had his back facing the telepath. She swept up behind him and looped her arm around his. The man bit back a startled oath, then relaxed when telepath gave him a quizzical look with her clear green eyes. She spoke with a lilting Irish accent. "Could you show me the way to the departure hall eighteen? Please?"   
  
The man hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to protest, intending to stay at his post, but with a slight nudge from the telepath, started in the right direction, looking at the lost lovely lady on his arm. Surely guiding such a beautiful foreigner to safety was a gentleman's duty!  
  
Schu piled flattery on him all the way to the hall, praising the kindness of the Japanese, their courtesy and thoughtfulness. The man blushed and told her not to worry about it. The telepath rigidly maintained her cooing facade as the man guided her past the other agents. This minds indicated no signs of acknowledgement of their comrade, nor registration of her identity on their minds.  
  
It was the last call for boarding, and with a sense of urgency, the telepath smiled a winsome smile and blew a kiss to the agent when she released his arm. " Thank you so much for leading me here in time!" She slid her ticket to the awaiting stewardess, heaving a mental sigh of relief when she finally checked through.  
  
The man grinned stupidly, waving.  
  
Once in and past the stewardess, she turned at the entrance of the boarding tube and smirked. Once again, kind sir, I thank you for guiding me to safety.   
  
The man's hand froze in mid-wave, and his expression grew horrified.  
  
Schuldich laughed.   
  
Brad was worried. Not that he would admit to being worried, but...Heck. He was worried. He didn't trust the German enough, and did not trust him enough to take care of himself. Especially in that attire. He watched Farfello push Nagi's laptop into the overhead compartment and checked his watch. Maybe he got into trouble... He made a noise of disgust and looked out the small airplane window. The seat beside him was empty, waiting for its occupant. An airline stewardess strode past.  
  
A female Irish voice sounded in his ear, perfectly modulated. "Excuse me sir, is this seat being occupied?" Brad turned around, about to snap the word 'yes' when he realised who he was speaking to. The telepath smirked as she tugged off her woolen cap, allowing her bright shock of hair to cascade down her shoulders once more.  
  
Brad muttered under his breath. "I am in charge of a team of ventriloquists."  
  
Farfello turned in his seat to look over at the both of them. He grinned, showing all his teeth, his voice thick with a French accent once more, " Hey, she sounds just like me!"  
  
Brad looked at the both of them wearily. " You are doing this just to spite me, aren't you?"  
  
A voice sounded right beside his ear, which made him jump. " No, we aren't." And it sounded suspiciously like Nagi.   
  
Brad kicked the other seat in front of him. "Are you joining in on their fun?" He demanded.  
  
The voice beside his ear sounded an innocuous "Uh...No?"  
  
Brad covered his eyes.

  
  
Two hours after takeoff.  
  
It was fast approaching nightfall as the commercial aircraft sped across the Pacific. The interior of the plane was growing dark and many passengers had activated the small lamp above their seats, giving the cabin a warm, pleasant glow.  
  
Nagi was busy playing Nintendo, tirelessly defeating opponent after opponent, finishing game after game. The Irishman, perhaps a little more French than ever, had started a movie marathon on his own, staring wide-eyed at familiar movies in various languages.  
  
Behind the content pair, Schu had already flipped his light and snuggled under a blanket, leaving Brad in the spotlight of his own. The American looked out the porthole at the rapidly setting sun.  
  
Fifteen more hours... and thirty minutes if they were to collect their baggage. Ten minutes to check out...Fifteen hours and forty minutes...and counting. Brad's internal clock went rampant as he willed the plane to fly faster, the time to turn speedily. He chaffed, nervous and excited, though calm on the exterior.  
  
A sleepy voice intruded his musings. Brad, go to sleep. You're too noisy. Brad realised that his hands had been tapping impatiently on the windowsill and stopped. He looked beside at the sleeping form. Schu was curled up in his seat, his back facing the window.   
  
Strange thing is, he looked exactly like a content cat, its purring almost audible.  
  
Brad almost envied the telepath, almost at home in any surrounding, self-assured and calm.  
  
The telepath was right. Sooner or later he will feel sick to his stomach with anticipation and excitement. He closed his eyes willed himself to be calm. A few moments later, the painfully nervous feeling subside, replaced with a decidedly more relaxed tone.  
  
He was beginning to enjoy himself as a calmness spread to his limbs, he felt tired... And darkness drew over his thoughts, lulling him to sleep--  
  
--that is, until the telepath's hand suddenly swung over and hit him in the mouth.

  
  
Author's notes: winces oooch.

  
  
Schuldich snuggled deeper into the seat, drawing his blanket tighter over himself and drifted away. The warm glow of the cabin faded away, like the earth being left behind as one is drawn into the sky, a rising feeling. The warmth was replaced by a chill wind and the blue tinge of snow.  
  
_ A child was led past the buildings. The darkened, dead Victorian structures of a bygone age, blackened by war. The inhabitants are long gone, the edifices' windowpanes empty, letting the wind and the snow invade the empty halls and rooms. The streets were filled packed with snow. Snow careened from the sky, blown about by a harsh master. The child struggled through the snow, dragged on mercilessly, causing her to stumble many times. The two dark shapes trudged through the white, a man and the child, bundled in overcoats of black.  
  
The child was clutching with one hand, the extra folds of the overlarge coat, her breath coming out in small puffs from the depths of the clothing, only her small mouth visible.  
  
The unlikely pair made their way to the entrance of a seemingly empty, suspicious because of a warm light gleaming through intact windows on the second floor, speaking of life within.  
  
The man led the child into the house, out of the storm. Another man came down the stairs to greet them, a man with a pointed goatee, giving the impression of craftiness. He smiled a serpent's grin.  
  
"Oh ho, so this is our new addition!" The crafty man bent over to speak to the child, pulling off the heavy overcoat. Brilliantly red hair cascaded from the child's head, its soft wispiness framing a delicate little face like a doll's. The man whistled a note of deep appreciation. " She is as beautiful as you describe, Rathenau."  
  
The man called Rathenau grinned. " I appropriated her from a woman who could not pay up her loan. A good trade. eh?"  
  
"There will be a great many men who will appreciate this child, especially with such a deep shade of red hair." The yet-to-be named man looked keenly at the shivering child. "My little leibe, do you know what you will be doing from now on?  
  
The child shook her head almost imperceptibly. The man smiled even wider, if it were possible, and looked far more threatening than before. The child shrank back. "Don't be afraid, I'll show you what you will do."  
  
The man beckoned her up the staircase. The child stepped forward to follow, but turned to look at Rathenau. Strangely, though his features had not changed, the man had become uglier, as if by some indefinable force. He leered at her, and she hurried up the staircase, frightened.  
  
The staircase was of carved golden wood that shone in the warm yellow light. The steps were large and the child had some difficulty in following the unnamed man. He led her down a hallway to a door.  
  
He looked down at her. "Peep inside, child. Then tell me what you see."  
  
The little girl placed her face to a crack in the door, trying to see. Her small voice spoke hesitatingly. " I see... a man playing with a little girl."   
  
The unnamed man laughed. "Playing? Yes indeed! That is what you will be doing !" He dragged her by the arm and handled her harshly into an empty room. "That is what you will be doing in this house from now on!" The child was on the verge of crying; her arm hurt, she did not want to play with anybody and she wanted to go home.  
  
Seeing the tears in her eyes, the man stopped. " I suppose you are hungry?' The child's eyes widened at the thought of food, now hopeful.  
  
The man growled. "The you will not start work tonight. Tonight, you will be fed and clothed. Tomorrow, you'll start work."  
  
The he shut her in the cold, lighted room.  
  
After eating, the man left her again in the empty room. The child was tired and she lay on the cold floor to sleep, like she did in at home. After dozing for a while, she heard the man exclaim. "What are you doing?!" He dragged her from the floor to her feet. Disorientated, the child was led to another room, this time lined with beds filled with other children. The children looked at her. "You will be sharing a bed with Matthias for now." He shut the door behind her.  
  
There was a silence.   
  
Then a small boy raised his hand. He had brown hair and blue eyes that watered. "I'm Matthias." The child went quickly to him, quickly slipping into the bed. The bed was warm. The boy didn't speak, accepting this intrusion. There was nothing to speak about.  
  
The child went to sleep.  
  
The next morning, the child was already awake when the man came in again. The other children had awoken earlier and stayed in the room. The man looked at her and made a beckoning motion. She followed him.  
  
This time he led her to another door. He looked at her gravely. " This man is a very important customer of mine. I want you to do exactly what he tells you. If you are obedient, you will be rewarded ." She nodded her head, but was shoved into the room before she could ask what the reward was.  
  
She saw a grossly fat man.  
  
_

  
  
Brad shot awake with a start. The hand had hit him hard enough to cause his mouth to bleed. Tasting the sharp bitter tang of his own blood, he sat upright, glaring at the sleeping form of the telepath.  
  
The figure had rolled over, the blanket thrown off the sleeping form. One hand lay to rest on Brad's seat. Brad glared and thought rather snappishly. Why did you do that for?!   
  
The redhead gave a short whimper. His face was screwed up with...what was that emotion? Pain? Horror? Forgetting his own pain, Brad reached over to shake the figure awake. Are you alright, Schuldich? In the darkness of the cabin, the telepath shied away from his touch.  
  
The figure struggled in the tangle of the blanket, muscles clenching and unclenching. A fist missed Brad's nose by millimeters. He grabbed the flailing arm and pinned it to his seat. Schuldich! What's wrong with you?!  The redhead's face showed fear and terror, its eyes tightly shut against some unseen horror. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.  
  
The other hand reached over to claw at Brad's arm, its fingers leaving painful gouges in the flesh. Brad grabbed the other arm brusquely and pinned it with the other.  
  
SCHU!   
  
This time a reply flowed through the touch. It was not words, but a deep, despairing, nightmare rush of emotions, encompassing the cabin in Brad's eyes. It darkened as though he was blacking out. The feelings of gut-deep revulsion scoured his mind blank, fear tautened his muscles. Deep black, mindless fear. Brad bent in the storm--  
  
-- Then there was only rage. White-hot anger. All that was.   
  
Brad ripped his hands away from the telepath's arm. Feeling as though a knife was stabbed into his gut and twisted. Cold and deadened. His eyes widened in shock, in the peacefulness of the cabin.  
  
Oh my god...Schu... The telepath continued to thrash, but slower now, less furious that before. He must wake the German up, but how?   
  
The he rapped the redhead, well, on the head.  
  
Schuldich sat bolt upright. OW!   
  
Several other passengers turned around to shush him.  
  
Oops. Sorry.   
  
Then he looked at Brad. Who was looking strangely at him. Oops.   
  
I forgot I wasn't supposed to use telepathy in public...   
  
Brad continued to stare at him. It was only then that Schu realised that Brad was bleeding.  
  
Oh my crap. What happened to you?!   
  
The reply was unusually grave. Why not you tell me? There was nothing of the furious temper she expected.  
  
Schu looked puzzled  and instead made motions to get a better look at the cuts, but Brad waved him away. Nevermind, I'm fine.   
  
The telepath looked at him dubiously. If you say so… Don't tell me. You got attacked by some passengers cat, eh? Brad stared at him until the telepath grew uncomfortable and flipped over in his chair, pulling his covers over him.  
  
Brad was puzzled. How could the telepath be so calm after extruding such excruciating emotions? How could he be so seemingly oblivious to what had just happened? The redhead seemed truly unaware of what Brad had just witnessed, and his reaction was no mere foist to throw wool over the situation.  
  
He really didn't know?   
  
Brad's experience threw doubts over his own conclusion. Every member of Schwarz was a incredibly complicated character by himself. If Schuldich felt reason enough to hide such from his team, he would. Brad relinquished his questions about the occurrence.   
  
When he was ready, Schu would tell the others. In time.   
  
It was near midnight in Japan when Nagi finally turned in for sleep. The cabin was almost completely dark except for his own light. Farfello had drawn his blanket over his face as he slept, his face outlined in the fabric. Nagi turned in his seat as he replaced the remote in his chair. Through the space between the seats, he caught a glimpse of the German slumbering, his head against the shoulder of the taller leader. Strangely, the older man did not shoo him off. Instead, Brad's expression was one between alertness and delicacy, as though the former was a fragile creature who might break.

  
  
Nagi's sleep-besotted mind convinced him that it was an illusion.

  
  
Farfello awoke to the sounds of birds singing.   
  
Then he realised the in-flight movie was running. Again. Which completely and utterly destroys the romantic notion of waking up to birds singing in real life.   
  
He soon became aware of voices in the air above his head.  
  
"What time are we landing?"  
  
"In an hour's time, I think."  
  
Well, it was time to wake up. To a bright, new day. In a lovely new country. In a bright new future. He was still himself, but there was a deliciously exciting feel of change in the air. He peeled the blanket off his face. The piercing sunlight flooded the porthole and caused him to squint. Nagi was already awake, and was tapping away on his laptop.  
  
The Irishman's voice was gruff and cracked with disuse. "Hey. What are you doing?"  
  
"Research on where we'll be living." Nagi's eyes did not divert from the screen.  
  
There was a thoughtful pause. "You're going to crash the plane with that thing on."  
  
" At least I'll die with the knowledge on where we'll be living."  
  
That was reasonable. " So what about where we're living?" The berserker sat up in his seat and surveyed the cabin. Most of the passengers were already awake and hauling coats and accessories from the overhead compartments, in preparation of landing. He looked to the seats behind him. The telepath's seat was empty, though Brad was looking unconcernedly out the window.  
  
" Well, we'll be living in one of the better-off districts in Washington for one."  
  
" A tad close to the seat of the government, eh?"  
  
"Take a look at this. I looked up Brad's dad on the FBI network. They don't have a photo, but they have a general description. A little too general, to me."  
  
Farfello's eyes scanned the generic bio. Age, height, etcetera, etcetera...Profession, 'Civil Servant'? His eyes narrowed. " Well. That's a little suspicious. But take a look here, his bio also states that he's retired. Bah. Don't worry. He's probably some senior number cruncher or something."  
  
Nagi turned the screen back to himself. " Even so, it'll do well for us to be careful."  
  
"Any new relatives?"  
  
"One uncle and aunt for me, and a pair of grandparents. A whole new set of in-laws for you. Lovely, ain't it? I'm not gonna check them up."  
  
" Aw, why?"  
  
" Best to leave the nasty surprises for later."

  
  
David Crawford undid his tie. No, the image in the mirror was not one that his wife wanted him to convey. On the contrary, he thought that the image was perfectly fine. If this person has such mettle to pose as his son, what better impression to convey, than that of a steely old man, with refined features and a deadly deposition? He had seen many, many people quail under his gaze over the years.  
  
He bristled. His wife said he looked like a stuffy old fogey.   
  
Well, EXCUSE me.  
  
Stuffing the tie in his jacket pocket, he exited the airport toilet to rejoin his family.  
  
The flight would be arriving in half an hour. His nimble mind did somersaults. As the family entered the arrival hall, his eyes scanned the place for the proverbial FBI agent nosing around. It was a strange thing that this 'son' of his would be coming in on the same flights as the four criminals brought to his attention. Still, stranger things have been known to happen.  
  
Talking about the four criminals. He requested repeatedly for confirmation from the Japanese government, still the information was still the same. Four assassins with paranormal abilities. Ridiculous! He had heard of people being able to see the future, but most of them were charlatans. This he personally attributed the keen foresight of the assassins. The Japanese, steeped in superstition, must have made up the labels of precognition and etcetera. The only one vaguely believable, was that berserker person. Men can be trained to ignore pain during battle, even history gave evidence of Norsemen fearsome in impossible battles.  
  
Still. Good assassins were good assassins. And good assassins meant that they would be able to provide a powerful range of services aimed specifically at the jugular of politicians.  
  
His keen old eyes spotted two agents awaiting the four. His wife jabbed him in the ribs. " Stop thinking about your job." He rubbed his ribs mock-painfully, hurt.  
  
"But I'm not thinking about work!" Janice Crawford was a small, elderly woman with long white hair, her pale green eyes still bright amongst the wrinkles of her face.  
  
"You get that glazed look everytime you think about it." She grinned as the family settled down into a couple of empty seats. She took his hand in hers. "I can't wait to see Brad again."  
  
He sighed. "Don't get your hopes up, you--"  
  
""--Don't know whether this person is really Brad or not." I know, I know. But what if he really is?"  
  
"Then, Mom, he really is." Her second son smoothly interjected. The son, Matthias, was a grinning young man, sleek in build, though fairly tall. And in accordance with family tradition, also an agent. But not for today. Today was his day off, today was the day he met his fabled elder brother.  
  
The only thing they had in common was parents. Even then, his brother was adopted, he was not. Still, that didn't stop his mother from lamenting the childhood stories of this figure long gone from the household. He didn't hold any expectations for the reunion. If the person was a fake, too bad.  
  
His younger sister had white blond hair like their mother in her youth. Her long thin eyebrows arced high above her steel-blue,oval eyes, giving her a distinctively angular, prideful look just like her father. She was silent as the others spoke, her arms crossed at her chest. Preferring to contemplate upon the upcoming reunion.  
  
Matthias put his arm around his mother's waist. "Since we have so much time left, Mom, why not tell us how you think this stranger will look." His father looked interested.  
  
His mother smiled and spoke slowly, pondering. "I think... he will still have that brown hair just like your dad's... Bangs over his eyes, neatly cut, though... Sharp reddish-brown eyes.."  
  
"Tall, I think he will be tall." The older man cut in.  
  
" Yes. He was growing quite quickly when he left...Um....elegant facial features...I think he might be quite handsome!" She ended with a girlish giggle.  
  
"Yes Mom, we all know that he was such an handsome little devil when he was young." The young man grinned roguely. " I, on the other hand, would like to contemplate on how my adorable little nephew will look like." He posed thoughtfully with his finger on his chin, much to his parent's amusement. " Well....Weeell... a small, leeettle boy... He's adopted too, isn't he? No fair! I can't guess what he'll look like."  
  
Tuning out the boisterous banter of mother and son, David Crawford tried to picture Brad in his mind. If he had stayed, he would be in the government business, maybe even going so far as to be in the FBI business with himself, just like Matthias.  
  
He wondered what this fully-grown man will say to him? How he will prove to him that he was truly Brad? And himself, will he be able to maintain the feral facade to test him?Will this stranger be his son?

  
  
Brad's heart was in his mouth. The plane had landed fifteen minutes ago, and Schwarz was filing out the aircraft's airlock along with other passengers. Every step he took, his heart raced hard, his thoughts raced harder. The carpeted floor of the passageway thudded, painfully real against his feet.  
  
The telepath looked at his leader. The normally composed man was cracking. The redhead's eyes picked out the tell-tale signs as they walked. The widening step, the darting eyes. Nagi and Farfello were behind them, already aware of the change in their leader. They knew solemnly that there was no shame, no dishonour in showing emotions this time, unlike before. Times were going to change, and their leader was going to lead the way.  
  
Farfello had changed his clothes earlier. Now, he was dressed in a deep grey turtleneck and couderoy pants that contrasted sharply with his pale features. His spiked white hair gave an aura of individuality and his black eyepatch was swapped for a white medical tape and bandage.   
  
Nagi looked younger than ever, in a brown shirt and blue jeans, his laptop slung across his shoulders. His eyes were serious as the four made their way past the check out counters.   
  
This was far different from killing. The cold acquaintance of employers and masters will be replaced by the warmth of a family. None of them had any experience of the sort. The tenseness of their leader did not help.  
  
The tension mounted even furthers as they collected their bags from the luggage strip. Brad's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts Would they recognise him? What if they didn't accept him back? What--  
  
His thoughts were interrupted when a hand slipped into his. A calm thought appeared in his mind. Calm down. You're thinking too much. Well, at least you're making too much noise.He looked at Schu, who grinned. I'm your 'wife' now, whether you like it or not. Well, most probably not, but I can't let you lose your composure in front of the others. It'll ruin our reputation, O great leader.   
  
Brad gave him a quick, almost unperceptible smile of gratefulness. He took a deep breath and walked on.   
  
The passengers of the flight were filing into the arrival hall. David Crawford tried not to look concerned, but his insides were doing the twist. He could see the FBI agents scanning the hall for suspects. His family pressed against the glass, trying to get a better view of the passengers. He, on the other hand, preferred to linger at the back of the crowd of onlookers. He could see people carting away luggage, met by others. People were chatting, smiling, laughing. He wondered whether he would join them.   
  
He watched several agents leading passengers away, most probably for questioning. They seemed to have a easy time picking out men from the crowd.   
  
They targeted singular individuals, as travelling in a group made people conspicuous. The ball in his stomach tightened. He hoped that the assassins would not burst out in violence. He would not be able to protect--  
  
"Oh my god OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!" He heard Janice scream. He rushed foward, and pushed his way through the crowd to get to his wife's side. She was banging against the glass, much to the shock of her son and daughter. "OH MY GOD!!! LOOK!!!"  
  
He glanced in the direction she was pointing. And saw it immediately. Oh my god. It couldn't be true.   
  
He saw Brad.

  
  
Schuldich knew before they walked into the arrival hall. The sudden turmoil of emotion erupted as they approached the exit, the kind of strong emotion that only happens during war, death and reunion. She squeezed Brad's hand instinctively. Brad paused, halfway out the door, his eyes quizzical.  
  
Then a small whirlwind of an old lady launched herslf at Brad, her thin arms wrapped around his neck. Brad staggered back in in shock. The redhead did not react. The other two relaxed.  
  
Brad heard the words through the sobs of the woman, " My baby boy!!! We thought you were dead!" She cried harder, her grip on him tightening, desperate. His heart rushed to his mouth as his entire being surged. Tears stung his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her in reply, lifting her off the floor. His voice almost cracked with emotion and the words struggled from his lips.  
  
"Hey Mom... I'm back."  
  
And for the first time in their life, Schwarz watched their leader break down and cry.

  
  
David Crawford lingered behind as the rest of his family rushed foward. His steely self-control prevented him from doing the same. Wait, he told himself, you don't know if he's really Brad. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't stop himself from taking a step forward.  
  
His expression grew hard. He must test him. He saw the man put his wife down, then shake hands with his son and daughter. The man moved straight through the crowd, straight at him.   
  
His blood pounded in his ears. He really did look like Brad, if he had grown up. He shouted in his mind. This man is not Brad, this man is not Brad! The old man's eyes hardened to steel-blue orbs, his countenance became hard and challenging.  
  
The man stopped right in front of him, towering. The clear, red-scarlet eyes looked straight past his own and pierced his soul. The same eyes that drew him years before. In that moment, there was no longer need for proof, nor testing. This was his boy, his little boy.  
  
The man spoke simply. "Hi, Dad."  
  
And he knew and believed that his little boy had come home.   
  
Schu stiffened for a moment when the smiling old lady gave her a hug. The lady drew back and looked her up and down. She smiled showing her pearly whites. " My, what a beautiful young lady you are! You must be Brad's wife, aren't you?"  
  
The young man behind her thrust his hand foward, " Hello there, I'm Matthias, your husband's brother. This fiesty old thing her is our Mom, if she forgot to introduce herself." He gave a knowing grin, before his mother jabbed him in the stomach with a bony elbow. He oofed.  
  
"Now you don't mind him. What is your name, dear?"   
  
Schu smiled, " I'm Schully, but you can call me Schu."   
  
Janice Crawford noted the strange timbre in her voice, giving it a rich, lilting tone. She decided that she liked her daughter-in-law. She looked past the beautiful girl. "Hello, who are those strangers?"  
  
Schu beackoned Nagi forward. She place her hands on his shoulders. " This is our son Neil. He's twelve this year." Nagi sulked mentally.  
  
Janice Crawford was immediately smitten by the darling boy. His pale skin and huge brown eyes appealed to her enormously. " Oh my, what a lovely little boy you have! Matt! Take a look at your nephew!"  
  
" I'm looking, I'm looking!" The taller man bent slightly. "Hey there little guy!"  
  
Nagi's tone immediately turned frosty. "Little?" He raised an eyebrow. "Little?"  
  
The man laughed. "Oh my, he's fiesty just like you Mom!"  
  
Schu drew Nagi away, with the boy muttering under his breath. She beckoned Farfello foward. The Irishman strode foward and grasped the old lady's hand. pressing it to his lips. " Charmed to meet you, Madame!" Janice Crawford thought he looked intimidating at first, but the moment he did that, he became suave and debonair. Oh my...  
  
Matt thought he was downright...well, to put it nicely, freaky. At first sight, he thought the man was an albino, but the golden eye that glanced at him cleared him of the thought. He shook the man's cold hand and experienced a chill when the white-haired man smiled at him. My god, he thought, what happened to him?  
  
"This is my brother, Fabien. Though we're not really related, he's still part of the family." Farfello's eyes were drawn to the silent girl beside the taller man. Their eyes met, and surprisingly, she smiled at him. Matt introduced them.   
  
"Uh, this is my sister, Kreisten. Uh...yeah." Matt repressed the desire to shield his younger sister. This man had a frightening feel to him. With introductions out of the way, his normally silent sibling struck up a conversation with the strangely quiet man. Looking at both of them, with their pale hair, eyes and skin, this Fabien person looked more of a brother to her than Matt ever did. The young man thought. I suppose like attracts like... And shrugged.  
  
Farfello was strangely drawn to the girl the second he met her. He grasped her hand and pressed it to his lips. The girl looked at him approvingly. "Madamoseille, I am Fabien."  
  
"And I am Kreisten." Her face was coldly elegant."What do you work as?"  
  
"I am but a lowly chef. You?"  
  
"I am merely a businesswoman."  
  
Both of them smiled at each other, a genuine smile. She spoke, " I suppose you will be living with us for a bit?"  
  
"Yes, and I will gladly volunteer my services to the family. Would you like to try my dishes?"  
  
"Oh really? Do you cook French of Japanese?"  
  
"Japanese, but I learn quickly. What do you do, Madame businesswoman?"  
  
"I simply help out with my father's business."  
  
Matt shook his head. This man managed to get more out of her than he ever heard in three days. The turned away from the pair. My goodness, I never thought anyone could hit off with a female FBI agent, especially one with the surname Crawford.  
  
End Chapter FiveAuthor's notes: Luv y'all!!! It's fun to be back writing fics again!

P.s.: Sorry, never noticed that lines, asterisks and punctuation disappear when you upload a text file. Hey! Some just (tell/diss/sendhatemail ) me! I'll keep a mind out for that in the future. Amazingly, I still get lovely reviews from lovely people who give lovely comments which just goes to show that there are really some lovely people out there.

How lovely…


	6. Chapter 6: The Name of Crawford

The Happy Family

A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction

_Chapter Six: The Name of Crawford_

Author's Notes: You know what? I think I'm getting the hang of writing coherent stories. Hooray. (after feeling like a miserable failure after being reprimanded for sounding like a hyperactive marsupial on a drug overdose...) Well, since there's not much else to complain about, here's an excerpt from a dream (or nightmare) I had:

Schuldich and Brad were having a heated discussion. Brad narrowed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "You're not doing it right, Schu."

"Argh. I know! I nearly got it." The redhead concentrated further.

Brad unfolded his arms. "Schu! Use the Force, you idiot!"

"I'm TRYING! What the heck is the Force!"

"How would I know! You're the telepath here! You use it to kill the stupid bunny!"

At that particular moment, something wasn't _quite_ right. And I thought to myself, _Wait. What bunny?_

Schudich turned towards me. With a malicious smirk on his face.

_Oh shit._

_GAH._

Let's say I haven't read fanfiction for the last half-year, so the last few nights were occupied with a rabid marathon of reading. Seriously, I think I overdid it. runs to the edge to let dinner go Too much ain't good, aint good at all. Such obsession turns your life screwy, and now I'm plagued by neurotic thoughts.

Well, I used to like reading fanfics where they paired up the male characters, but now, it just seems (I apologise to all who may be offended by this) sick. Not like it seems wrong, but there's something in my subconcious screaming at me not to pollute my mind any further. Must be the Mind Conservation and Protection Union back there somewhere... It's fine when it is fiction, but when you try to place it in everyday life, it just doesn't fit. The world becomes a darker place. Well that was why I stopped reading in the first place. There's too much sickness out there.

Cheerio:D

_**She's Got the Look** _

_1-2-3-4, Walking like a man, _

_Hitting like a hammer, _

_She's a juvenile scam. _

_Never was a quitter, _

_Tasty like a raindrop, she's got the look._

_Heavenly bound cause heaven's got a number when she's spinning me around, _

_Kissing is a colour. _

_Her loving is a wild dog, _

_She's got the look. _

_She's got the look. _

_She's got the look. _

_What in the world can make a brown-eyed girl turn blue. _

_When everything I'll ever do I'll do for you and I go: la la la la la _

_She's got the look. _

_Fire in the ice naked to the t-bone is a lover's disguise. _

_Banging on the head drum, _

_Shaking like a mad bull, she's got the look. _

_Swaying to the band, _

_Moving like a hammer she's a miracle man. _

_Loving is the ocean, _

_kissing is the wet sand, _

_She's got the look. _

_And she goes: na na na na na na na na._

_-------------Roxette, Don't Bore Us, Get to the Chorus! _

Chapter Six: The Name of Crawford

"Wow! This is great!" Schuldich screamed out the car window into the crisp, cold morning air. The entire family was packed into David Crawford's four wheel drive, which now seemed too small to contain the excitement of the Schwarz members. Minus Brad of course. (Party pooper.) The jeep sped along a busy highway, passing other vehicles at a tremendous pace.

The telepath had his head jammed out the rear window of the jeep, her flaming hair whipped wildly about by the painfully strong wind. She whooped again. Farfello had his head out the other window, with his happy expression, filled with ecstasy. Nagi sat quietly in the middle seat, enjoying the brisk air rushing past the other two.

Janice Crawford laughed at the noisy racket behind, giving the car a holiday atmosphere. David Crawford raised an eyebrow as his wife whispered to him. " Don't look like that. At least they're not complaining about your driving."

There were three rows of seats. The front was taken up by Dad and Mum, the second by Brad, Matthias and Kreisten, the last, by one screaming maniac and two others. Unlike the three in the back row, Matthias looked distinctively green while his sister calmly watched the scenery speed past. Brad yelled over the roar of the wind.

"Schu--! Get your head in before the next truck takes it off for you!" The telepath's head shot in just in time to miss the aforementioned truck.

_My, that was lucky..._The German grinned. The jeep swerved sharply to the right, causing the Irishman to tumble back into the safety of the car. And therefore squishing Nagi.

"GAH! I can't breathe! Getoffgetoffgetoff!" Farf daintily removed himself from the flailing telekinetic.

David Crawford did not even blink as he shot past a sixteen-wheeled, fifty-foot truck. Schu yelled over the wind, "Brad! I can see where you get your driving abilities from!"

David Crawford blinked as his wife laughed hard. Well, really! There was nothing wrong with his driving! Matthias turned a paler shade of green. He laid a trembling hand on the shoulder of the driver's seat. "Dad...? Dad could we slow down? We're not on a mission, you know...?"

He shushed his son sharply and threw a reprimanding look over his shoulder." Not in public, boy!"

The fully grown man flushed under his father's gaze, the earlier comments unheard by the rest of the passengers. He looked up.

He suddenly grasped the seat harder. "DAD! We're gonna miss the exit!"

His father replied calmly. "Quit worrying, boy. I got it under control."

Then, by the law of centrifugal force, all eight family members were neatly compacted into one side of the jeep.

Author's notes: You know, I keep imagining Brad's dad as Sean Connery (with that Scottish accent) or Robert De Niro (Mafia boss)... Well, if you didn't already know, this fic is based on 'Meet the Parents', an awfully funny movie. But let's not bother you any further...

The jeep slowed in a tree-lined suburb, the brilliant colours of fall littering the streets. Farfello breathed in wonder at the spectacular display of colour.

David Crawford broke the silence. "I take it that none of you have ever been to America before?" He steered into another sidestreet.

The telepath replied, "Yes. This is our first time."

There was a pause. "Hn. We're coming up to our home now."

The jeep drew up to the front of a brilliantly white terrace house, its immaculate green lawn covered with scattered leaves. It was a beautiful home; a porch with a couch-swing, tall, clear French windows lining the front with translucent curtains. The garage door swung open to welcome its inhabitant.

The old lady turned in her seat and looked at Brad. "Do you still remember this place?"

Brad smiled as he stared out the window at the house. "Of course."

For Matthias, it felt strange. This stranger had lived here before he did, yet he never knew him. He watched the man's features as an expression of wistfulness flashed across his face. Here is the big brother he never knew. _I wonder how he's really like..._ It was great to have more people in the family, heck, he wouldn't even mind if his Mom adopted more kids. But, as he looked at his newfound relatives; the frightening pale man, the sharp-eyed redhead and the little boy with a depth of understanding in his eyes...Let's say that's not what you really expect when you get relatives. He glanced at the back seat. _I suppose they are still a happy family..._

The jeep stopped before the garage. "Okay, everybody tumble out."

Doors were opened and the passengers alighted. The boot was opened and luggage passed around. Matthias helped his nephew haul his bags to the front door. He pushed open the front door with his foot, and dropped the bags heavily in the hall.

Nagi winced as he remembered where he put his PDA. The rest of the group trooped into the house, with David Crawford bringing up the rear. Schudich nearly whistled. The house was spacious, its walls and floor covered with richly red-brown wood panels, the furniture clean-cut and comfortable-looking. Most of the place was country-themed, the smell of wood polish evident in the air.

"My... What a lovely house you have Mrs. Crawford..." Janice Crawford blushed.

"Well, it's a modest place we call home."

Schuldich elbowed Brad mentally. _Well, no offense Brad, but you should get your mum off the wood idea. If we were in England, this place would look like the central attraction for Guy Fawkes Day_. Brad shot him a warning look.

"Dad, I'll show them their rooms. Hey c'mon, bring your bags up." Matt picked Nagi's bags up again and started up the polished stairs.

To Schuldich, despite the warmth of this house, there was something was giving her the creeps, a faint resemblance to something in her dreams perhaps? She shuddered, a cold chill running through her. She shook her head.

Farfello and Nagi's room turned out to be a modest affair, two white beds beside the tall French windows, with plenty of sunlight streaming in. It was the guestroom of the house. Nagi ran and leapt onto the bed, bouncing around with laughter. Farfello flopped on the other bed and gave a sigh of contentment at the soft white cotton sheets. The curtains billowed in the fresh morning air.

Brad and Schu were placed in Brad's old bedroom, now emptied of the old furniture. Instead, a large bed sat in the middle of the room. Schu flung herself on it and was rewarded with threatening groans and squeaks. She wrinkled her nose. "Man, this thing is dusty." Matthias laughed as he stood at the door.

"Well, Mom especially shifted the double bed so you two could sleep on it. We brought it down from the attic." He voice dropped mock-threateningly. "And you two better enjoy it, kapeesh?"

The redhead laughed as she flipped over on the bed. "Gottit, Jimmy my boy!"

Brad closed the door behind them when Matthias. The single French window was at the head of the bed, casting yellowed sunlight onto the telepath. The leader put his bags down in front of the wardrobe, and, to be expected, started unpacking. He was euphoric to be home. Everything was going so well, it was perfect. Well, if only he didn't have to share a room with the telepath.

"Brad, stop being so stodgy and come bounce on the bed." Schu voice was muffled as he burrowed into the huge fluffy pillows. "Oooh, this is lovely!"

Brad continued to empty his suitcases into his section of the wardrobe. "Schu, you really should get your stuff in the cupboard before you start having fun."

"Awww, don't wanna..."The telepath kicked her shoes off and was under the covers as quick as she could go. _Maaaan, this is _nice She peeped out of the bed, only her eyes visible. "Isn't this perfect?"

_You mean living in place with more light?_ Brad opened an empty drawer and slid his suitcase in.

_And no more Esset and no more Weiss and no more Rosenkreuz!_ The redhead giggled and rolled over, watching him. "This is heaven!"

_We'll be staying for a few months before we find a place of our own._ Brad picked up the German's luggage." If you're not going to pack your clothes, I'm going to stuff the whole bag into the wardrobe."

"Feel free to stuff. Then you can join me on the bed."

Brad made a sound of derision, which sounded like "Pffbt."

"I was right then." Matthias removed his ear from the wall. His sister stood behind him in his room.

"About what?"

"Our dear brother has a stooge factor of ten upon ten." He brushed himself off. "Maybe Dad will let us use the surveillance network to look in on them."

"Why?"

"Dad wanted us to check up on them, remember? To see if they're imposters or not. But anyway, I don't think we have anything to worry about. They seem to be nice people." He exited the room and rapped on the door opposite. "Hey guys, lunch will be ready in half an hour!"

Muffled acknowledgement came from his nephew.

_Schu, I forbid you to go tramping through the minds of my family members._ Brad sat on the bed as a concession to the redheads ceaseless cajoling.

The telepath rolled around. _'Fraid I might come upon some embarrassing childhood memories, eh?_

_As respect to our hosts. More like it._ The serious tone in the precog's voice sobered the telepath.

_Relax. I won't._ The other turned his head away. The redhead eyes locked onto that butt sitting on the bedcovers. Let's stare for a while... _So what are we going to do here since there are no more baddies to smother?_

_I don't know. Some investments here and there, and we're set up for life._ Brad shifted his position on the bed. And the redhead's salacious eyes followed. Seriously, one of the worst choices he made on this trip was to have a homosexual telepath acting as his life partner. Now he was getting rather uncomfortable.

_Schuldich. Stop looking at me like that._

No answer.

_Stop it. I order you._ The silence was more unnerving than the noise of Schuldich's endless buzzing.

There was a noise of frustration, then Brad got up, entered the adjoined toilet and shut the door, to the background whine of a German deprived of his eye candy.

It was lunchtime when Nagi banged heavily on his parents' door. _Schuldich! O Great Almighty Leader! Lunchtime!_

_Coming, coming. Lemme get Braddy first. _There was a sound of a telepath knocking on a bathroom door. The doorknob clicked as it opened.

"Braddy? It's lunchtime, no more sulking--Oh my goodness"

"--SCHU! GET OUT NOW!"

There was the sound of a door being slammed.

"Well excuse me! How would I know you were really using the toilet!"

Nagi tapped his foot as he waited outside.

The family was settled around a fine oak table. David Crawford was seated at the head of the table, with his wife off to his left and Brad to his right. The table was set with fine white dishes with gleaming table ware.

There was an uneasy silence as the two families faced each other.

Brad gave a command as he looked down at his plate. Schuldich. Tell Farfello to use the bathroom now. Puzzled, the telepath conveyed the message silently and the Irishman excused himself from the table, to the surprise of the Crawfords.

Janice Crawford broke the silence. "Well, I suppose the prayer can wait till he comes back..."

"There no need, Mom. Fabien's atheist."

"Oh." There was a silence. "Well, um, I suppose we could start first, then..."

Heads were bowed and prayers said, before the Irishman headed back. Janice Crawford served the thick beef stew, ladling out huge dollops onto each plate. Matthias and Farfello started eating ravenously, breaking off chunks of bread to dip into their gravy. Nagi sipped quietly, not exactly finding the fare suited to his palate.

David Crawford took it upon himself to start the conversation. "So Brad, what is it that you do for a living?" If Schuldich was a dog, his ears would have perked up.

"I'm in Marketing and Investments. I worked for several companies in Japan, advising them on their products."

Janice spoke, " So, how long have you been working?"

"Ten years."

"Really, they hire people at seventeen?"

"They look out for people with good marketing instincts, not qualifications. I was lucky."

"Did you manage to get into a school?"

Brad went quiet. Then he spoke softly. "No. I didn't get a chance to. They taught us the basic things at the orphanage."

There was a silence between them. "The orphanage?" Brad put his spoon down.

David Crawford knew he should feel immense guilt at this, but merely felt deadened sorrow.

"What happened?" He looked down at his stew and prodded a floating piece of beef. He could not look at Brad. "What happened that night?"

Matthais had struck up a lively conversation with Nagi on hobbies, drowning out the conversation in this side of the table. Janice Crawford smiled and excused herself, to busy about in the kitchen. Two pairs of eyes watched her as she moved away.

Brad lowered his eyes. "Is this very important?" his voice soft.

His father stared at his son, now a fully grown man, bangs covering those startling eyes of his. Must have been horrible...

"Yes."

Brad leaned back in his chair and stared at his hands. His voice was low when he spoke.

"That night, when you had that important ceremony to attend, this lady knocked on the door...She was dressed like one of those policemen that we've always had around.

"Mom was in the shower, so I answered it. She told me to go with her, but I didn't. Then she took out a gun...a gun, and pointed it at my head. She told me she would kill me, if I didn't go with her.

"Or worse, that she'll kill you first."

The elder Crawford's eyes narrowed. "Kill me? The Award Ceremony was under the highest security. There's no way anyone could have gotten into the White House without authorization!" He shook his head. "Don't tell me you were gullible enough to believe her?"

The younger man's eyes flashed, with a hint of anger. His voice went softer, deadlier. "I _knew_ Dad. I knew she was telling the truth. There was no coyness, just stated facts, as though she knew full well she could _easily_ do it.

David's words caught in his throat. The Brad he had known never lied, was always truthful, always serious. He went silent.

"She led me to her car and blindfolded me. Then we drove to an airport where we took a plane."

David wondered how they managed to get through customs. "The plane was in flight for six, seven hours. I couldn't tell. When we landed in a cold place, I was taken to an empty building, where I was locked in a room. I had my hands bound. Gods, Dad! I really wanted to come home!" The last was in a harsh whisper, fists clenched palely in his lap. It was almost a physical blow to the older man.

_The keeper of the law could not even protect his own child_. David Crawford flinched, as the feeling of loss rushed back to him, like blood in his veins. The helplessness, the inability to do anything... Now he was going to know what happened. And he was going to berate himself mercilessly. Brad... this man... had gone through so much...He wanted to weep, to believe so much that this man would be his boy...

"I tried to attract the other tenants of the building, by screaming and banging, but the place was empty. The lady left me there for a week.

"There was water, but no food. I was going mad by the time they took me again.

Brad smiled grimly. "Then I was dumped in another orphanage like some unwanted rubbish, in a rural village. Where I could not speak the language... And then I waited, to get out."

"Another orphanage? David Crawford's anger raged anew. _We took him out of one to give him a new life, and he went back to ANOTHER one!_

"I hated that place."

"My god...Where was this place?"

"Germany. Took me months to convey to the caretakers that I was abducted. Even then there was no way of finding my way home." The boy, no, man, looked at him with those piercing red-brown eyes, frightening in their earnestness. As though it were a knife to stab his heart. The eyes so much like those that he had known before... long ago.

The older man was quiet for a moment. "Does anyone else know this?"

"My family." Brad smiled humorlessly. "They went through the same thing. We were at the same orphanage."

"What!"

"They were abducted too."

David clenched his fist. In Germany! If only he expanded his search to Germany! Children snatched away from their homes, just like Brad. Oh Gods, he felt useless. Only so many years later, when the abductors were long gone, having gotten away with their crime, would these children make their way home again. He felt worn hollow, the anguish of the past days whistling through his sorrow-ridden frame.

Brad's voice seemed dead and empty, as though intoning the punishment for his failure. _His_ failure... "Fabien's entire family was murdered."

"Schully was taken as payment for a loan."

"Neil was too young to remember."

My god. How many children did they take? How many people did they murder? Why? Taking, and then abandoning them? An international slave ring? The black market?

"Then what did you do?" The voice of the older man was strained.

The voice that spoke was quiet, acceptance of his fate, perhaps? "I decided that the four of us should stay together, as a family." He paused. "We grew up, we got out."

The older Crawford was silent. Then he covered his face with one hand. Behind the hand, the voice was strained, though soft. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Brad. I searched for you but couldn't find you. If only..."

"I don't blame you, Dad. You couldn't have known."

"All those years... If only I could have given you the life you deserved..."

"It's all right now, Dad. I'm already home."

Brad rose from the table, taking his plate with him. He turned away from the sight of his father.

"Why did they take you?"

Brad froze. "I do not know." He moved away quickly.

Schuldich slipped quietly out of the corner of the elder Crawford's mind, where he has listened, unnoticed. He was silent as he sat by himself at the noisy table. Yes, it was all true, everything that Brad told his father. Except for when he said he didn't know.

Brad knew, all right, he knew all too well.

That orphanage, after all, was Rosenkreuz.

Schuldich poked pensively at his stew after Brad left the table. He'd almost thought that Brad would tell the truth about Schwarz, putting it all in the open for his family to see. He could sense the hesitation just by looking at his leader's face, that he was just so close to spilling the beans, the all on Schwarz.

Stirring his stew around, he wondered, how could Crawford even consider telling his family the truth? He stabbed at a lump of meat. It made the redhead confused. Ol' Stick-in-the-Arse never wavered, the cold bastard. So why would he even _think_ about putting his team, his long time fellows into possible danger by telling his father?

_Maybe_, whispered a corner long-hidden at the back of his thoughts, _maybe he trusts them, trusts them far more than he trusts Schwarz?_ Schudich snorted, _well, duh, of course, he'll be daft to trust us._ But still, he couldn't tell what was going on in the American's head. Prodding ever more vigorously, he scowled.

It was not like they haven't gone through the same thing of being abducted. Surely he knew the importance of not revealing them to his family? How _irresponsible_. He chuckled mentally. _Me? Who am I to lecture the Great Crawly on responsibility_?

"Hey, if you don't stop prodding your food, you're gonna grind right through the plate." He looked down; the aforementioned meat had been reduced to mere mush under his fork. He looked up.

Matthias Crawford blinked his clear brown eyes at his sister-in-law. "What are you grinning about?" He lounged easily in his chair and stretched his long legs out. He was definitely around Brad's height. Schudich wondered what it was that these American ate.

"Mnn? Me? Gosh, I was thinking about why Brad never told us about his family, from what I see, he must really love you guys a lot."

"Don't think so, no. We haven't really heard anything about him at all till Dad suddenly mentioned him to us around a few months back. Never even knew we had a brother. Mum explained it all nice and clear though."

"Really?"

"Brad was a kid that they adopted when they've just gotten married. The doctors said that mum couldn't have children, but they really wanted a boy. So they went to different states looking for an orphanage that'll let them adopt, seeing that they're newly-weds and all. California was the only state with laxer laws on adoption, so they managed to adopt a kid." He grinned. "The way mum put it, it seemed that Brad was really special. Some whiz kid."

Schuldich laughed " Yes he is, he definitely is."

"It's kind of strange to suddenly have a big brother you've never even laid eyes upon, though it grants my wish of having an older brother. He seems rather cold at first, but I think that he's alright once I get to know him better. Must be quite traumatic, being kidnapped and all that. Doesn't seem to want to open up-" He reached beside him and seized Nagi in a headlock "-unlike this one!"

"Yaaaaaargh! Heeeeeelp meeeeeee" Nagi flailed, eyes pleading.

"You talk too much, that's what you do." Matthias retorted. "I've gotten even more relatives in tow, thanks to my darling elder brother."

He released a muttering Nagi and continued. " So after the abduction, my parents had children instead of adopting them, by accident. Apparently Mum could have kids, but only at a great risk to her own health."

"She must really love kids. I, on the other hand, would strangle the little buggers on sight." Matthias laughed. The redhead smiled. "So, 'nuff about my husband dear, how about you? Tell me about yourself."

"Me? Let me tell you something first, pretty important, this." He leaned forward. " Truthfully, you couldn't have picked a more complicated family to marry into. We've got this circle of trust, you see. Dad talks about trust trust trust all the time, so only certain people are allowed into this circle." He raised his eyebrows.

Hoo boy, are you sure you really want to know about this can of worms?"

"Well, yes, if you're really a can of worms."

" My dad, my sister and me, we all work for the government."

"Like civil servants? Doesn't sound all too secretive to me."

" Think military, police, that kind of thing-"

Schuldich's eyes widened. _Oh gods Braddy! What have you gotten us into now!_

"--the entire family is in the FBI, we're talking about federal agents here." Matthias Crawford grinned. " Pretty cool or what?"

The rest of Schwarz fell silent, staring. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

Schuldich blanched mentally and thought _BLOODY HELL! Braddy! What wrong with your bloody genes!_

_Genes? But I'm adopted!_

_Brad! You foresaw this, didn't you?_

_Well, no. _

_How can you be so unsurprised then? This throws a monkey wrench in everything!_

_Well, not really._

_Stop giving me damn quips and explain!_

_WELL, _huffed Brad Crawford, _I happened to have known it all along, even before going off to Rosenkreuz. My father happened to be the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation._

_WE ARE GOING TO DIE. _Wailed Nagi while Schu cursed. Farfello simply waited for Brad to continue.

_What better place to hide than under the very roof of the FBI agent?_

_I can think of many places less liable to convey coronaries! Why didn't you tell us earlier?_

_How would you have reacted? I couldn't have us stirring up suspicion._

Schuldich sighed. _Sometimes I wonder why we put all our trust in you, Brad._

_It's because I take care of everything._

_That too. _The telepath conceded.

It was after lunch when Brad entered Farfello and Nagi's room. The talk with his father was a relief, to get that burden of hiding the truth out of the way. There was a certain grain of truth in it... Brad felt a little guilty for the lie, but what would his father think if he told him that he was an assassin? A mere puppet to an all-powerful organization? He was afraid that his father would fear him, cutting off all possibility of loving his son ever again... Or even worse, hate him for being what he was, what he was trained to be.

Now there was a certain irony to it all. If his family was in the FBI, that'll make the need to be secretive, hiding everything from his family. Who knew? They might even be the ones out looking for Schwarz. He wouldn't put it past dramatic irony.

He smiled tightly. But that didn't matter.

Nagi was unpacking his bags while the Irishman hogged the bathroom; there was a sound of rushing water.

"Nagi, I want you to set up your computer and our network as fast as possible. I need you to keep an eye on what Esset is doing. We will prepare for their next attack when they trace us.

"Yus sur. Right on it, sur. Anything else sur?"

"Check up on Esset's assets in America. We are going to ruin the organization." A broad satisfied smile spread across the American's face, one with icy determination behind it.

"Schwarz was back in action again." Nagi gave a challenging grin in response to Crawford's. "Oooo funfunfun. And about time too. I suppose you want to know who's the higher-up are in the place now, eh?

"They installed new Elders after we blew up the last ones."

"What! Why didn't you tell me!" There was chagrin evident in the other's voice.

"They haven't got a proper grip on power yet. Still weeding out the competitors, you know."

"I suppose you would tell me that our enemies are after us only when we see the whites of their eyes?"

Nagi ignored that comment and changed the subject, intelligently. "I brought our entire database with us. Actually, it's in the box with my CDs. Sooo, can I charge the transport cost to our little company fund?"

A flat reply. "No."

"Why?"

"Your CDs take up more than ninety percent of that _crate_. And I know you have you own money stashed away somewhere."

"Stingy meanie."

"I suppose it'll arrive at ten tomorrow morning. So get your cash ready then."

"Meeeniee."

"Talking about Minnie, you are lucky I didn't make you wear those Disney-themed clothes."

There was a sullen silence. "Poo."

The Crawfords led the four around the house, showing them the immaculate backyard, various spots of interest, and finally--

the _Game room_,

Farfello grinned. The others stared in silent admiration. Matt stood at the doorway, his arms akimbo as a lopsided smile spread across his face like a proud father showing off his son. "So, whatdyaa think?"

Schu whistled. Mirrors covered all four walls of the basement, reflecting the dark hulks of workout equipment to infinity. A gleaming fighting ring sat in the center of the spacious room, daring all to come within. Nagi circled the room.

"Wow." He traced the outline of the machines. "Cool."

Brad looked on the scene with satisfaction. At least Schwarz would have a place to workout.

David Crawford looked at his son as a grudging smile struggled onto his face. "You can come here anytime, "A note of warning, "but make sure you keep the equipment down here in top working order."

Brad nodded an affirmative.

Whoah, Braddy, your dad's got the whole damn range of equipment here. I haven't even seen some of these! Schu prodded at a hulk of black gleaming steel.

Matt vaulted into the ring and shifted his weight from foot to foot, shadow-boxing. "I happen to be rather good at martial arts. Anyone want to try?" He beckoned to Brad challengingly. "Let's see how you do!"

Brad hesitated. If he wasn't careful enough he might reveal his abilities. He hesitated. His father gave him a jab in the shoulder. "Go on, it's just a game." The younger Crawford bent over as he entered the ring.

"You better be on guard, I'm gonna see if you're fightin' material." Matt began to circle as Brad stepped sideways with his bearing erect, eyeing the other.

"Don't smoosh your little brother, Braddy. I think I like him." The redhead stood beside their father. Damn, how could he let himself be lured into such a situation? He readied himself, hoping that his reflexes wouldn't give him away.

He said wryly, "I think I'm going to lose, you know?" His brother gave him a disbelieving look as he bounced.

"C'mon, you can't be all that bad."

"Why not let _me_ try?" The unexpected voice spoke up from a corner of the ring. Somehow the boy managed to slip in, eluding Matt's perception. He stopped.

"What?"

"My dad isn't so good at fighting." The boy smiled, "I, on the other hand, and quite good."

Matt smirked at him. "Oh really?"

"I think I can whoop your ass."

Matt's eyes widened as the rest of them chuckled at Nagi's comment. He gave Brad a knowing grin that that said; Don't worry, I'm just playing. I won't hurt him.

As Brad retired from the ring, he gave him a weak smile. It wasn't that he was afraid that Nagi couldn't defend himself. In fact, his brother might have just set himself up to be killed.

Schuldich smirked as he came over. "Poor, poor man. Nagi's gonna trounce him."

David Crawford raised an eyebrow at their comments. "I'm not too sure about that... Matthais is professionally trained--" Schuldich was still grinning. He shrugged and turned to the ring. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

When the fighting started, David Crawford heard himself say, "Oh dear."

Schu was in the kitchen with Mrs. Crawford. Technically, she was Mrs. Crawford too, but she was glad to be devoid of that honor. The redhead scrubbed the dirty dished in the sink while Mrs. Crawford cleaned the cooking pots.

"So, Schully, I hear that you were from the same orphanage as Brad."

"Uh, yes. We've known each other for a long time."

The older lady grinned as her tone grew secretive. "So tell me how you two met."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, how you two met, had fun, got married? I want to know every little bit of trivia about my son, right down to the naughty little details."

Schuldich gulped. My goodness...Never would have thought Braddy's Mom had a fetish for lewd literature.

"C'mon. It's between us ladies."

"Well...alright." The telepath's grin spread across her face. _Well Braddykins, I suppose my revenge is going to be more extensive than I planned..._

"Did you know that Brad has a fetish for leather?"

David Crawford was in his room, changing into his working clothes. The reflection in the mirror showed a sharp-looking older man in his crisp-cut suit. After all, one has to make a good impression on his subordinates, and instill fear into the greenies.

He knew that his son, Matt, and his daughter were doing the same. They had all requested for a half-day off to welcome Brad. It was rare for anyone to take an entire day off the job, especially when they were on important cases. There was still a lot of work to do.

He exited his room and met his children in the corridor. Matt was dressed in that blue suit he always wore, a little more bruised than usual. He rubbed his jaw. Kreiesten wore her slacks and ladies' jacket.

Yes, with almost military precision, they descended that stairs.

Today, there will be more things for him to do. He will enter his office as usual, sit at the same chair. But he will have new criminals to catch. The ones that took his son.

He wondered how his subordinates were doing about those four assassins.

When they were gone, Schu and Mrs. Crawford were doing the laundry.

"It's rather nice to have someone help with the housework for once. The others just leave their stuff lying everywhere. "

Schuldich eyed the pile of clothes in front of her. Of course he knew how to do the laundry. It was just that he didn't expect to do THAT much.

A few days later...

Brad and the others settled in comfortably in the Crawford family home. Brad was forever in Nagi's room, directing him in his searches. Nagi was getting huffy. After several hours, Brad sent a thought out.

_Schuldich, I need to talk to you._ Brad got a faint impression of the redhead trapped with his mother, making lunch.

_Yes. And I have plenty to talk to you about too! Miraculously, I have survived three days of hand-to-hand housekeeping, cooking and LAUNDRY! Do you know what GOES into the washing machine! And the stuff that Farfie gets on his clothes have to be HANDWASHED--_

_If you are about finished--_

_--AND me being in demure mode twenty-four seven is sickening! I SICKEN MYSELF! Do you know how much it takes to sicken me!_

_--please come up to Nagi's room._

A few moments later, the telepath appeared at the door, an apron tied around his waist, spatula brandished threateningly in the other. Nagi stared wide-eyed.

_Shut up kiddo._ The telekinetic shrugged and shut the door behind the former.

"You better have a good excuse. Your Mom has me doing the fish for lunch." The telepath ripped the apron off as she sat on Farfello's bed. "I hate fish." Brad was in a straight-backed chair, behind Nagi as he sat at his console.

Brad gave her a sharp look. _Pay attention Schuldich. We have located several regional headquarters of Esset in the country. One of them is in Washington._

The redhead whistled, a noise incongruous with his outfit. _That's too close to home._

_Well, don't be surprised if we get attacked anytime soon. They have already dispatched a team of Retrievers to find us._ Brad turned back to Nagi. _Search for a weapons supplier, in this district or the closest one. Illegal is best._

"Hai."

_Well well, I wonder where we can find 'em. Just let Farfie loose on one of them street gangs and we'll have a whole armory_.

_I've found one. This guy has his lurking spot somewhere downtown_. Schu never failed to be astonished by the speed at which their personal search engine could turn up useful information. _It's a dingy little gay bar called Blood Brothers._

Schu got up and looked over his shoulder. _Ooo naughty. No wonder the cops haven't got him yet._

_What kind can he provide?_

_The gay men or the weapons?_ Nagi caught the look that Crawford shot him.

_Okay, okay. Just joking."_His fingers flashed over the keyboard. _Anything from handguns, hand-to-hand weaponry, dirty of course. Rifles..."_The telekinetic grinned.

_..and custom-made explosives, made to order. I think we hit the jackpot._ Brad paused thoughtfully.

_Schu, I need you to contact this man. Negotiate with him to find out how much his guns cost._

_Which guns?_ The redhead gave him a saucy grin.

_Handguns, the whole array. _He paused, catching the telepath widening grin. "Stop thinking about that. That is disgusting."

"I didn't say anything. You just assumed."

"I _know_, more like it. Will you go?"

"What's in it for me?" The redhead raised an eyebrow.

" After you're done, you can have the rest of the night off. No questions asked." The redhead's eyes widened. Oh, for just one night!

_I'm taking it!_

Farfello was digging in the backyard.

"What are you doing, dear?" Mrs Crawford leaned out the kitchen window.

Farfello grunted as he dug harder. "Lookin' for worms, Mrs Crawford."

"What do you want them for?"

"So I can put them on the flower beds. It'll help the plants." He dug further.

"Oh. Alright, then. But I would appreciate it if you didn't dig that hole right in the middle of the lawn. Somewhere off to the side. My husband took quite a while to cultivate the grass."

The white-haired man stopped. "Oh. Sorry, Mrs Crawford." He looked around at the kitchen window, but the old lady had already withdrawn.

Mrs Crawford thought to herself as she continued to fry her fish. That Fabien was such a nice, sweet boy, but in some undefinable way, he was quite strange. Rather eccentric.

The madman sighed to himself as he filled in the hole that he had just dug. He straightened and surveyed the yard, then moved onto the bare flowerbeds. He sunk his spade into the crumbly soil and started digging afresh, wondering how deep a weapons cellar Brad Crawford wanted.

_So when do you want me to find this guy? Tonight?_The redhead lounged on the bed once more.

_Tonight's fine. We'll exit the house together, then we'll go separate ways. I'll take the car back when the lights are out_. Brad flicked his fringe out of his face as he stood over Nagi.

The telepath whined. So you won't come with me? Not even for one night? I thought we could have fun...

_I know you are fully capable of finding your own kind of 'fun'._ The redhead pouted.

_But then there won't be anyone to pick me up when I'm down and out! _The tall American turned around and looked down ' the German. He narrowed his eyes.

_Schudich, I'm warning you. You better not get drunk and embarrass yourself, not to mention the rest of us, in front of this family. You've got all the events down right? _The redhead smirked back up at him.

_I can't make any promises They have a tendency to get broken..._

_You stay sober, or else..._ The precog looked disdainfully from his great height as he ended threateningly.

_Oh, all right. Quit being such a party pooper._

There was the matter of transport.

Brad poked his head into the kitchen and tried not to smirk at the sight of the telepath flipping the fillets. Luck was in his favour and his mum looked up from her chopping board. She smiled. "Oh, hello dear." Schu whipped around, ready to launch her spatula at him. Upon spotting the elderly lady locked in conversation, she turned sullenly back to the pan.

"Mom, Schu and I are going to explore the downtown tonight. Can we borrow Dad's car?"

The older lady pursed her lips. "Oh, I don't know about that. I'll talk to your father when he gets back from work." She smiled again. "Your father doesn't go out at night, so I suppose the car's free by then."

"Okay, thanks Mom." He gave her a rare smile as he exited.

The old lady hurried over to the redhead and elbowed her. Schuldich yelped. "So you two are going to paint the town red tonight, aren't you?"

Schu smirked at her 'mother-in-law'. "How did you guess?"

"I _know_. I was young too, you know. What are you planning tonight? I can help keep the others away from your room."

The redhead paused thoughtfully. "Well, I don't know. Probably get into a bar, get drunk and snog the night away in the back seat."

"Sounds fine." Schu raised an eyebrow at the old lady. The seemingly respectable matron smirked at her. "Hey hey, I know all the things that you children do nowadays. How do you think I managed to snag such a dashing young man like David?" Schuldich's jaw dropped further.

"Just don't leave beer bottles or underwear in the car. I'd hate to explain that to my husband."

It was night.

Heads turned when the door tinkled. And, unlike many times before, curious eyes were rewarded. A sensual redhead slipped casually into the crowd, blending easily with the neon masses. Men gazed unabashedly at the slinky shape of a clearly beautiful man looking for a good time.

Schuldich sat himself on a tall barstool and crossed his legs. Leaning languidly on the counter, he ordered a Red Martini. His tight black leather pants showed his assets to an audience hidden in the shadows of their seats. The translucent halter top hid his (cough, or her) bindings but seductively enhanced the attraction of sculpted muscles. Sighing and fanning himself, Schu wondered whether their gay, gallivanting weapons supplier would ever show. Amusingly, here he was, a woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman. A suppressed snort. Funny how it all works out in the end.

Fingers toyed with the cascade of flame hanging free around his shoulders, he eyed the dancers on the floor as they ground and grooved to a heavy, heady beat, reminding him of unsubtle foreplay. He averted his eyes as the grind became undeniably implicit. In all his years in his job, he could not understand the neurotic love that men have for each other, the love that cause them to forsake the natural attraction for women and hide themselves in such places. The German spotted a couple frenching hard against a wall, their bodies trying to force themselves into a closer position, closer than skin can ever permit. _How tragic_, he mused, _that love strikes those that can never be together. How desperate and how sad._ He closed his eyes and drifted gently over the thoughts and sensations of the crowd.

There were some with an unrequited longing for love and human contact, male or female regardless. There were some with animalistic lust for the forbidden and taboo, placing other men on a pedestal far more tantalizing and untouchable, almost like a crystal desire. And then there were those who sold their bodies, giving wide shallow impressions, only wanting to get laid for the sensations and the money, to continue living, to prove that they're alive by the man's touch.

_We're just desperate animals, dear brothers, looking for a love for us and us alone. _

Even with closed eyes, he did not need to sense telepathically the presence next to him.

"Hiya there, beautiful. What are you doing here all by yourself?" Without opening his eyes, Schuldich gave a wide smile, lounging back even further.

"Just enjoying the place. Feeling the sounds and people. H'bout you?" He opened his clear emerald eyes, looking through his lashes at a nervous, grinning teenager. Dressed rather snazzy in his black business-like top and brown jeans, his demeanor gave him away as an anxious person. He perched on his stool, sitting on his hands. His open, friendly face had a kind and gentle look.

"Well, the same… just looking around. Um, you know, it's hard to find someone to talk to." His relieved smile brought the same response to the redhead's face. "Waiting for someone? You've been sitting here for a while." Schu sat up from his reclined position and slid an arm around his companion's shoulders.

"I think the person I've been waiting for has already come." He planted a mock-kiss on the boy's cheek. The teenager blushed furiously and stuttered. The redhead murmured low into his ear." What do you say, I head over to your place and get down to business?" The boy nearly jumped out of his skin.

"My…my place? Uh... I'm flattered…. But I'm really really waiting for someone."

Schu purred. "Oh, I'm sure that person wouldn't mind, would he? I'm pretty sure he would understand if you made off with somebody like me…" He blew into his ear. The boy nearly screamed. Wrapping his long arm around the protesting boy's waist, Schu navigated both of them to the door into the cold night air.

Once outside, the German guided the both of them to a secluded alleyway. Schu absently noted that there were other couples already there getting down and dirty. He swung the boy against the hard cold brick wall, trapping him with his body, planting arms on either side of the boy's head. The boy gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.

"Hey! Wait! I don't think I'm ready for this kind of thing!"

Schu buried his nose against the side of the boy's neck. "Mmm? What were you doing in a place like this then?" He nuzzled his shaking neck. The boy tried to push his head away, but to no avail; the German was simply too strong.

The redhead stopped suddenly and released the boy, who stumbled away from the wall. "So you think I'm just some kind of whore?" The redhead's voice shook as he covered his face with his hands. "Like I'm some kind of freak? Do you know how hard it is, how hard it is to put up with all the hard stares of people everyday!" He sank to the floor, head bent over his long legs.

The teenager stammered, genuinely worried. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean anything that way…"

Schu's voice sounded strained as he whispered brokenly, "I just want to find someone who cares… just someone to talk to." His silken mop of hair trembled, making his seem so small and vulnerable.

"Well… er… we can go to my apartment and …and just talk. About things. Anything. Please, please don't cry…" The boy crouched over the redhead, patting his back, rubbing his hair comfortingly.

"Really…?" The German sniffled.

"Well, uh, yes…. If you promise not to do anything like what just happened…."

"I promise." Said the German, in a small voice.

"Well, here we are." The boy flipped the switch. He had introduced himself as Jason. The large room was lighted, revealing a carpeted expanse with sparse furnishings. A worktable dominated an entire side of the place, with a half finished mechanical object on it. Wall to wall, every inch of vertical surface was covered with stainless steel cabinets, fixed with digital locks. "Well, it also doubles up as my workshop, so it's a little messy."

"It's alright… it's nice….Jason." The redhead seated himself on a small couch and drew his legs up to his body.

"Want anything to drink? I've got coffee, tea, hot chocolate…" The teenager rummaged though a wooden cupboard to one side.

"Hot chocolate, please." Schu glanced at the impressive-looking cupboards. "Why are you living by yourself? Shouldn't you be living with your family?"

The boy gave a light laugh. "No, I had foster parents who let me move out, since I had enough money." He set the kettle on the boil. "I make stuff and people buy them… I don't go to school either because I'm pretty well off inventing things."

"Coo… that would you make you a prodigy…" The boy sat on another chair.

"I don't really think of myself as such, it's just easy for me and my parents. I can make a living, my parents don't have to spend so much on me."

Schuldich sighed. "I wish I had parents like that." He looked to the cupboards. "So what do you invent? And what are in those cupboards?"

The boy coughed nervously, "Well, it's supposed to be a secret…."

"Aww come on…tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone else…"

"No, I really shouldn't…." He smiled. "Actually, I was supposed to be meeting with a customer when you hauled me off." Jason got up and sat with Schuldich on the small couch. "So talk. You wanted to talk earlier on…"

"It's so hard to find someone to talk to…. Tell me about your work, Jason…"

"No, I can't."

"At least tell me what is in the cupboards," the German pleaded, "I _have_ to know." The boy bite his lip for a moment, deliberating. It was rare that anyone wanted to see his collection, but… he couldn't put a stranger at risk…. The beautiful redhead looked at him appealingly. He blinked, yes, the stranger was disconcertingly beautiful. If he was homosexual, he would have no qualms about getting into a relationship with him… He gave in. The redhead smiled encouragingly, almost gleeful.

"Okay, just one cupboard, alright?" He grinned, "Don't tell anyone." He tapped in an access code, and the steel doors swung open with a hiss. Schuldich rose with awe on his face. _Oh my god... _

There, on rows and rows of racks, lay gleaming weapons, glowing blue in the florescent light. Many looked incredibly powerful, many had designs that he had never seen before. Jason grinned, "I'm quite proud of them… Made them myself." He paled, suddenly realizing his slip. The redhead did not seem to hear him.

"Oh my… they are fantastic…." Breathed Schu. "I'd love to spend more time staring at them right now…but first…." As quick as a flash, before Jason could protest, he snatched a particularly nasty looking gun off the rack, screwed on a silencer, loaded it—

A heavily-armed SWAT trooper crashed the apartment door down.

And plugged the intruder in the helmet. The man flew backward with the force of the shot, crashing into his teammates. Schuldich whooped as Jason's jaw dropped.

"Wha—what happened? What's going on!"

"Love to explain it to ya, Jason baby, but right now you've gotta grab your stuff and scram because the FBI's on to your ass! Get moving!"

Schuldich controlled all the minds of the SWAT teams as Jason bewilderedly loaded his collection onto his black jeep, more than a little unnerved by the sightless stares of the people he passed on the way out. His mind raced. _Who is this Schuldich? Why would he save him from the FBI? Is he a bad guy? Why aren't the people moving?_

A voice in his head replied, _I would love to answer your questions darling, but I'm a tad busy right now._ There was a mental image of the redhead ripping out the tapes of the surveillance cameras and setting them on fire.

Jason heart clenched with fear, _Oh my god he's_ telepathic!

_Yes, yes, enough of stating the obvious, you'll get your explanations later._ Within moments, the telepath vaulted into the passenger's seat beside him. "Let's go!" He thumped the dashboard as the jeep shot off.

Once safely out of range, Schuldich relinquished his mindhold on the police and the SWAT teams, erasing all memory of the two of them, replacing them with conveniently scripted conclusions. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand though his long hair.

They were traveling along the highway, heading towards home under Schuldich's instruction. Jason's hands were shaking as he shifted gear. "How… did you know that they were coming? Who _are_ you?"

"Me…? Let's start from the beginning. First, a co-worker of mine contacted you, I think he used the name Nirvana, and you were supposed to meet someone called Mastermind at the gay bar, weren't you?"

"How do you _know_ that?"

"Elementary, my dear Jason, I _am_ Mastermind. At your service. No holds barred."

"Oh my _god_."

"Yes, I get that a lot."

"Who _are_ you people?"

"People who want to keep you alive for the good of everyone else, as well as to stop an evil organization from taking over the world and we would like you to become one of us. Sounds cheesy, but that's the most succinct I can get it."

"_Oh my god._"

"Will you stop saying that?"

"And now, as soon as we get in there, you are going to be very quiet because our high and mighty leader's mum is asleep and we are not going to wake her up. Because she is going to demand an explanation and I'm in no mood for one."

Jason gulped. And nodded. They were already outside the house, though still sitting in the jeep.

"Once in a secure room, we will communicate via telepathy because the high and mighty leader's dad is a paranoid freak who bugs the house. The high and mighty leader will then explain every single thing. Any questions?"

"What are we going to do with my collection? We just can't leave it here on the street!"

"Well, say hello to Farfello. He will be our bellboy for today." Jason shied violently away form the back of his chair. A yellow eye gleamed in the backseat. "He'll take your luggage to a safe place"

"_Oh my god!_"

Farfello blinked. "Jumpy, isn't he?"

The duo snuck up the stairs, as silent as mice. Jason fingered a gun in his pocket, hoping that the telepath wouldn't notice. He was afraid; this was so unbelievable. If someone told him that morning that he'll be saved from the FBI by a gay man who worked for a rebel organization who operated from the confines of their parent's house, he would have directed that person to head to the sanitarium. And—

_Would please not broadcast so damn loudly? I could have told you I wasn't gay. Quite the opposite in fact_.

"What?"

_Talk in your head!_

_What? You're not gay?_

_No, I like men._

_So you're gay._

_No, I'm not gay! Is that all you're concerned about? _

They were heading down a corridor to a door with light streaming out from under it. Schuldich rapped against the door and then opened it.

Crawford was standing behind Nagi's chair, while the hacker was busy on his computer, tapping furiously without touching the keyboard. Crawford turned around. _About time the both of you got here._

The telepath grumbled _We would have gotten here a lot faster if this boy here didn't drive within the speed limit._

_If Schuldich didn't introduce the rest of us already, I'm Brad Crawford._ He shook hands with Jason. _And this is Nagi Naoe, who is presently known as Neil for certain reasons._

_Charmed_. Said Nagi, without turning around.

_Now, if you would please hand over the gun before you wake the neighbors up. We have had enough action for one night. _Stunned, Jason handed over his weapon.

_What is going on? Who are you people? _

_Well, sit down, I'll explain everything._ Brad sat down on a couch.

_About time too, O great and mighty leader, he's been shell-shocked all the way. _Schuldich sank onto the couch beside him with a groan and pops of tendon.

_We are the former assassin group Schwarz, comprising of four members; Nagi, Farfello, Schuldich and myself. We used to work for this international organization called Esset, which is bent on world domination. It employs people with special capabilities for their ends. Schwarz has managed to destroy the upper echelons of the organization and has escaped its clutches by fleeing to America._

_Fleeing is such a horrible word, oh mighty leader, use 'took a vacation'._

_Now, Esset wants to destroy our group, because we pose the greatest threat to their plans. And their agents are already here in America._

_Oh my _god

_There he goes again._

_Since we have basically no weapons to start with, we need the services of such like you. We have adequate funds to meet your payment and requirements, and we are the only people who can hide you from the FBI._

_Will you work with us?_

_I don't know if I can trust you. I can't just base my decision on everything you say. _

_Let me tell you this. If we had let the SWAT team get to you, you will be spending the next twenty years in jail. We have saved you from the law. That would put us on the same side; not with the law, not with the criminals._

Schuldich crossed his legs. _Plus, you can save the world too, while you're at it._

_Did I mention that Schuldich is a very freaky person? _Jason scowled at the redhead.

_Why thank you. _The telepath smirked. _If you're still wondering why they call me Mastermind, remember that you volunteered to bring me home._

_What! You were crying!_

Brad narrowed his eyes. _I didn't need to know that._

_I have my ways, oh great leader, I have many, many ways._

_So I'm supposed to accept a preposition from a gay telepath and three other abled persons who claim to be assassins and who are hiding in their parents' house._

_They're his parents. Not mine, Plus, it's formerly evil assassins who have just gotten in a fix. _

_And I'm supposed to believe that?_

_Well, yes. _The telepath opened one eye lazily. _After how much the gay telepath went through to get you here._

_I went through the most traumatic experience in my life!_

_Schuldich, _Crawford frowned, _I thought I ordered you _not _to traumatize him._

_With Schuldich, _replied Nagi, _everything is traumatic._

_Hey! I resent that!_

_Nevertheless, _said Crawford, shooting the others a look, _we are serious about our offer; will you supply us weapons? In return you'll get paid for your services and shelter from the FBI._

_I doubt you can afford my services. I charge very high rates._

_Oh, I'm very sure we can afford them. _Smiled Crawford grimly. _We can afford them very easily._

_Even so, how can you keep me hidden from the FBI? They have eyes everywhere! I already had a difficult time evading them before._

_Well, we're living in a house full of FBI agents for one—_

Oh my god!

_--they'll never look right under their nose._

_Jason, _scowled Schuldich, _if you don't stop saying that, I'll feed you to Farfello._

_Oh my freaking shit!_

_Good boy._

Author's notes (again): Well, finally managed to finish one chapter… Had totally forgotten about it. Had some fun typing out the last part over the last few days. I had gotten this email from some reader about waiting for the next chapter and such. So I thought; why not? Time to get this story rockin' baby!

Write in to tell me what you think, dearies, and show me that there's someone out there peepin' at my endeavours. :D


	7. Chapter 7: Little Girl Dreams

The Happy Family Chapter 7

A Weiss Kreuz Fanfiction +

Author's Notes: People _have_ to send me little nuggets of praise to keep me going on this story. Now thanks to the latest reviewer, the engine is now revved and ready to write. Now, you dispassionate consumer dogs, here is the new chapter:D

I just realized… I started this fic in 2001? 2002? This signifies several things, the first being that I write real damn slow, the second being that this piece of work chronicles the development of my sense of humour, which appears to me to be degenerating daily. Sobs. Ah well, at least it doesn't sound like the forced labour of a squirrel on drugs. Anymore, that is.

I've gotten a review, from a dear consistent someone, that I keep having a few hiccups of narrative here and there, e.g.

How did Schwarz find out that the house was bugged?

Why was the FBI after Jason?

And who just is this Jason fella anyway?

Why hasn't the villains of Rosenkreuz made a debut yet?

And why hasn't there been any humour about Schwarz running about the Crawford family home?

Where is Schuldich and his skimpy leather lingerie? Or the lack of it?

Is Weiss going to be around?

(OMG… the questions, the _questions_! But I shall strive my utmost to dignify my little ditty on FFnet. (Aha! But I didn't say 'strive my utmost' what. Heh.))

So I decided to make the first part of this chapter a series of short scenes which could be inserted duly into the storyline, instead of editing past chapters where readers will have to go all the way back to check. It saves me whole lot of time and darn if I ain't the lazy person I thought I was. Muak lots of love. Maniac.

(P.s. to the reviewers who think that I'm a guy, I'm not. I'm a dudette. :D)

Qn: How did Schwarz find out that the house was bugged?

Qn: And where is and his skimpy leather lingerie? Or the lack of it?

(On the first night of arrival in the Crawford family home…)

Matthias Crawford threw down his earphones in frustration. His sister merely looked at him. They were in the Surveillance room, a secret room in the house totally secure form the outside world, from which they observed their family members. _New_ family members. Not that there was anything wrong with them… just that they had their father's _bloody_ nosy genes.

Matthias threw his hands up in the air in defeat as he complained to his sister, "That Neil kid keeps his J-rock music on the loudest volume! He must be deaf by now! I can't hear a damn thing!" On his monitor, Nagi sat peacefully in front of his computer screen, his head incidentally blocking whatever he was working on.

On her screen, however, was Farfello working out at the exercise equipment in the Game Room, silent as he lifted weights. Kriesten could not deny that Farfello was a handsome man, with his white-blond hair and pale, refined looks. His gallant and dashing attitude that made a deep impression with their mother.

_Small wonder,_ sighed Kriesten mentally, _he is gorgeous after all._ This Fabien wasn't like any other men that she met, namely men who pursued her like a pack of ravening dogs, and who thought she had an IQ of fantastic proportions— in the negative range. Her expressionless face gave away nothing of her thoughts.

_And that bandage, OOooh that bandage, it makes me want to nurse him back to health._ The said bandage remained wrapped around one eye, giving the man a helpless sort of look. Although we all know that Farfello does not equate helpless, missing one eye or not. Farfello had unwittingly worn one of the few things in male human history that would attract women; namely bandages which signified **Here I am, I'm a poor wounded male, would you give me a home? And nurse me back to health?** Most women would give the thought of being duped a few microseconds before maternal instinct overrode all common sense, resulting in the damn lucky male being clutched to one female bosom. (This is a secret, so don't go spreading it around…) Matthias did not notice the smallest of dreamy looks that crossed his sister's face.

The room, their father claimed, was equipped with the lastest in spy gadgetry and fortified with the strongest of security locks never ever seen outside secret government facilities—

The secret door to the room hissed open, (hidden behind the washing machines which was always on to hide the noise. Hence the immense amount of laundry.) and their mother popped in, carrying a bowl of chips. "Here dearies, I brought you some snacks to keep you while you're playing."

Matthias groaned, "Mum! We're not playing!"

"You're peeking on other people's business, Matt," said Janice Crawford disapprovingly, "It's still playing whether or not your father told you to do it."

"They're doing work, my dear," said David Crawford as he stepped in after his wife, closing the pressure door securely behind him. "It's important."

"I still don't see what is so important about this sneaking around and _spying_ on people. They're not dangerous criminals. I won't stand for Brad being treated like that, I won't !"

As David Crawford tried to placate his other half, Matthias turned to another monitor, interested. He called his parents over, cutting them short before his mother could give any ultimatums.

"Hey… Brad and Schully are up to something…"

Schuldich posed seductively at the doorway of the bathroom, a thick white bathrobe wrapped around his/her figure. He crooned, "Braaaaady, it's time for your punishment!"

Brad turned from the cupboard that he was packing his clothes into, an incredulous look on his face. He blanched at the sight of the telapath standing in the doorway. He managed to find words after a moment. "You have _got_ to be kidding me." Schuldich stared at him levelly. "You… surely don't mean _that_."

The redhead smiled like a shark and sauntered forward, forcing him back the same distance till he bumped into the cupboard. "Oh yes I do, Braddykins…" She purredm " I remember full well _all_ my threats, and I intend to carry out _every single one of them_."

Brad smile weakly, "Do that include the one of setting my brother-in-law on me with a collection of spoons?"

"Maybe."

"How about the one where you threatened to dance around dressed like a milkmaid and yodeling till my brains fall out? I could work with that one."

The telepath merely grinned as she advanced further. The precog looked like a trapped animal. He darted off to the side, towards the bed, but Schuldich merely continued his inexorable progress. "Wait!" Brad held out his hands as though it could ward the other off, "This is…is unnatural!" When that didn't work, Brad steeled his features into a stern expression. He stood with his hands on hips, a scowl on his face, "I have not time for your games, Schu! We didn't come all the way here to do things like this! If you have any dissatisfactions about your role, I expect you to handle it like a responsible adult!"

But the telepath was not to be fooled so easily. Instead, her predatory smile grew even wider. As she stalked forward, she crooned, " I have …dissatisfactions…all right…" Brad realized belatedly that _responsible_ was a descriptor that did not apply in the case of Schuldich, and that in this case, _adult_ had only one meaning… which wasn't the opposite of 'adolescent'.

Brad didn't realize he was backing away till the back of his legs bumped painfully against the bedframe. He fell onto the bed, unbalanced, rolled off as quickly as he could, barely avoiding the lightning pounce of the redhead.

"Aww…come back, Braaaaad." Schuldich pouted, "Come back and _take it like a man_." Brad gulped at the double entrende.

He thought at the other man. _Look, Schuldich, you should know by now that I'm not gay. None of this is going to work on me!_

The redhead smirked as she spoke in a low amused tone, "I could work on you… Eh, Brad?" Her eyes didn't leave him as she rose and rounded the bed, blocking off his escape to the bedroom door. Brad gave a short but colourful curse.

Schuldich raised a finger in admonition, "Ah _ah..._ Mind your language please…Mr. Crawford." She tut-tutted, moving closer…

"Oh my." Said Janice Crawford, speaking for the whole family.

"Look, Schu, you know I'm not giving in without a fight and the whole house would know before we even get started." _We can't blow our cover!_

_Let me check then…_The telepath pursed her lips as she scanned the house's occupants, _Nagi has the music on loud, Farf is in the basement, your parents…_She frowned, _your parents are watching us now. Damn, but that's smart!_

_What the hell!_

_They're watching a video surveillance…of all of us. _She laughed out loud, _Your dad is one sneaky bastard! Who ever knew the Crawfords had a voyeuristic streak?_

Brad covered his eyes with his hand. _Why do things like this always happen to me? _

Schu pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door quickly behind them. _Your dad didn't install any cameras in here, only audio. _

_I can't believe that my dad bugged the house! _Brad began to laugh, _It's something I would have done! _He caught Schuldich's cold _look_. _If, _he hastily continued, _I wasn't living with Schwarz. _Looking around the small space, he sat down on the toilet-seat cover, _I don't think we gave anything away with our conversation just now._

_You think so? Now we have to make out in the toilet._

_I am not going to make out with a guy._

_Aww, Brad, don't be so narrow-minded!_

_Especially not in the toilet._

_Great, now I'm stuck here with a great icicle. And your parents expect us to snog on the floor. _

_No way._

_Come _on_, Brad, _the telepath sighed as she sat on the edge of the bathtub. _Your parent are looking from above at you, who just hurried into a bathroom with your incredibly sexy, and not to mention horny, German supermodel wife and do you think they expect us to sit in here and have a heart-to-heart conversation? _She snorted. _Highly unlikely. They might think that you have trauma-related sterility._

_You're one incredibly sick person, you know that? _Brad sighed, _So what do we do now?_

_Follow my lead. _The German smirked as he smooched the back of his hand and moaned, "Oh Brad…"

Brad looked scandalized. _I am NOT going to do that._

_Oh don't be such a wallflower!_ Schuldich kissed his hand noisily. _Come on! You can do it._

An unwilling smile crept onto his leader's face. _Why do you always make me do things like this?_ He raised a hand to his mouth and gave it a chaste kiss. "Schu…"

Schuldich dissolved into helpless laughter. Brad did it again with more force and deliberately groaned louder.

Schuldich's laughter stopped as her face began to redden, she didn't quite expect… that sexy tone of voice. _Damn sexy, Brad. Now we see if two can play at this game!_ She threw the towel from the rack onto the floor. She kissed her hand passionately and panted, "Oh…OoooOh Oh…. I need you, Brad….Ah!"

Brad looked embarrassed for a moment. He grinned as he smooched his hand some more, "Not yet, honey," He breathed heavily, "I want you some more…"

Schuldich squeaked mentally, _Brad! Naughty! Oh!_ The telepath could hear the American's laughter. She gave a loud groan, "I need you, now… inside, I want you inside me now…Ah…Ah… Ahhhhh!"

Brad turned a bright red. _Schuldich! OMG…_

The telepath blew a mental raspberry. She continued "Ah….ah….ah…harder, _harder_! Ohhhhh…you're ….so…ah……_hard_!"

_That was very eloquent, Schu,_ thought Brad wryly, _Shows your mastery at the language._

_Oh, shush, this is incredibly funny. Come on, groan a bit for me… They're missing your turn in this._

"I love you and your treasures, honey." There was a moan and a sucking sound.

"….me… ah there!" There was feminine breathing.

"I can't hold it anymore…I'm ah …hah hah, coming…"

"Harder! Harder! Ah!...Ah!"

"Ahhh!"

"Ahhh!"

There was heavy breathing as they both clamped hands over their mouths to prevent the laughter from escaping. Schuldich accidentally let a giggle escape. Brad couldn't contain his laughter any longer at the sound.

They laughed and laughed and laughed.

The Crawfords listened to the earphones with raised eyebrows. Matthias' eyebrows were raised so high, they nearly disappeared into his hair. The monitors shone a flickering blue glow in the family in the surveillance room.

David Crawford coughed. "I …think that is enough entertainment for today."

_They've stopped listening. _Though Schuldich when their laughter finally subsided. _I think we've taught them a lesson about spying on family members._

Brad wiped his eyes and grinned. _That was the funniest thing I have ever done. _He grinned.

_Pity we lost the mood there, what a waste of good leather lingerie. Ah, well, there is always next time._

Brad raised an eyebrow. _You're really wearing…that?_

Sculdich made threatening motions as to undo his bathrobe. The American hastily stopped him. The redhead stuck out a tongue. _Spoilsport._ He got up to open the door.

Brad grabbed his hand, "Wait, Schu. I want to tell you something." There was an uncomfortable silence as the telepath waited. "I… just wanted to say thanks."

"For what?" The redhead looked puzzled.

"Thanks for doing all this for me. Dressing up and acting and coming all the way here. Thanks."

Schuldich slowly smiled, "Don't worry about it, O great almighty leader." The smile turned into a smirk, "Don't think that this will let you off from your punishment."

Brad escaped from the bathroom before Schuldich could do anything to him.

Qn: Why was the FBI after Jason?

Qn: And who just is this Jason fella anyway?

Qn: Why hasn't the villains of Rosenkreuz made a debut yet?

When Jason was seven, he lived in an orphanage. He like making catapults that shot rocks really far, which often broke the windows. He didn't like the punishments afterwards though. He got wiser and thus made catapults that shot even further, so that he would get a head start.

When Jason was eight, he was adopted by a loving couple from Tennessee, who owned a farm and collected guns. On their farm, Jason shot his first airgun and fell in love with it. The wildlife began staying away from the crops.

When Jason was nine, he would skip morning lessons to watch the metal smith at his forge, where he shaped bits of metal. Jason tried to do that at home, but the kitchen stove wasn't hot enough, or that frying pan refused to melt. His father let him use his workshop.

When Jason was eleven, he had a whole collection of gun books and learned to make composite guns from the Internet, guns that were not made of metal and could be sneaked through any security check. Jason thought that it was cool. The FBI tracked the site and thought Jason was dangerous. And also that Jason was about thirty years old with a mortal grudge against the President of the United States. The FBI can be so touchy about such things.

When he was thirteen, Jason realized that people would pay good money for some of his projects. He sold a few and got enough money for his father to fix the leaky roof and the termite infestations in the foundations. His parents were very happy. So was this rebel group somewhere in South America. The FBI agent tracking him was getting a bit nervous.

When he was fourteen, Jason quit school because he wasn't any good with biology and all that history and geography stuff. He was very good at making weapons though. He was way ahead of anyone in physics, chemistry and maths because it interested him and helped him make even better guns. And he didn't want to become a dentist anyway.

When he was fifteen, he was earning enough money from his projects to start a internet business which masqueraded as a site selling the most boring books possible, such as the Anecdotes of Famous Horticulturalists. (He thought it amazing that people still put in orders for them.) He moved out of his parent's house and started living in an apartment. He learned that he had to keep moving all the time because someone was always breaking in and stealing his projects. The FBI agents still couldn't find the thirty year old, disgruntled, genius gunsmith.

When he was sixteen, Jason was recognized as the best at his craft. Unfortunately, the FBI finally recognized the fact that Jason was only sixteen. The FBI agent following him was reprimanded by David Crawford himself, head of the FBI, and was commanded to seize the boy and his weapons. Rosenkruez's maritime base fell that year, and its top assassin team escaped its clutches and made it to America. Jason had the fortune and misfortune to be discovered by Schwarz, who foresaw his arrest, and who spirited him away before anyone could catch him.

He now lives in a roomy bunker below the flowerbeds of David Crawford's backyard, thankful that all the FBI nonsense is over and that he can finally make his guns in peace.

At least until the next adventure…

Qn: Why hasn't the villains of Rosenkreuz made a debut yet?

Qn: And why hasn't there been any humour about Schwarz running about the Crawford family home?

Qn: Is Weiss going to be around?

I shall save this scenario for later… since this file is getting rather top-heavy… Now, On to the story!

Chapter Seven: Little Girl Dreams

_How dare you say my behavior is unacceptable?_

_So condescending, so unnecessary critical_

_I have a tendency of getting very physical_

_You better watch out cause if I do you need a miracle_

_When it is cold outside and you ain't got someone to love_

_You'll understand what I mean when I say we're never gonna give up_

_Like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams_

_Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe_

_Is there anyone out there cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe_

----------------------------------------Maroon5, Songs about Jane------

"You'll be staying here for the time being, till we find another place." Jason looked around at the roomy weapons cellar. Farfello had placed his collection neatly in racks along the walls. There was a pallet and a worktable in the corner, all that he would ever need.

"We'll send down you meals three times a day, and there's a small portable toilet over there. Hope that you'll like it here." Brad stood behind the teenager as he gaped at the place. The walls were made of highly compacted dirt, to the consistency of stone, courtesy of Nagi. It was literally a bomb shelter.

"Wow… You guys are really something."

Farfello looked at him as though it were an absurd thing to say.

"Of course we are."

It was the morning of the next day and the Crawfords were stirring from their sleep. Brad was already awake, staring at the little sunlit patch of ceiling above him, silently marveling at its rarity. _I could get used to living with windows._ Schwarz's old living quarters, or even his old ones back at Rosenkreuz, did not have windows. Instead they were mere fallibilities in a defense.

Spots of light danced as sunlight bounced off leaves. He thought to the night before. Yes, they had the genius gunsmith Jason in their grasp, yes they had weapons… But then what? What was Schwarz going to do? Keep running and fighting, forever? What could this motley crew do for the rest of their lives?

He knew right down that they were made for fighting and it was fighting that Schwarz will return to, it was their second nature.

_Should we just give ourselves in? Join the government? Fight for _them_? What do we do?_

_Good morning, oh high and mighty leader, I hear there's a moral dilemma knocking on your door. _The telepath's voice was drowsy as he flipped over and opened his surprisingly emerald eyes.

'_Morning Schuldich._ Brad felt unexpectedly placid about this intrusion into his thoughts. _What are you doing up so early?_

_Well, you know, I have pay tribute to my hordes of admirers, do my hair, paint my nails, feed our pet Berserker…etcetera etcetera. I have a busy life. _He yawned languidly, like a satisfied cat. _Let it not be said that Schuldich does nothing useful with his time._

_I was wondering, what do we do after all this._

_After all what?_

_All this, everything._

_I don't think that 'all this' will ever be over. Or at least, when it is, we'll all be dangling our feet off clouds with halos on our heads and singing at the top of our voices. I have a song prepared just for that. It's call the Song that Never Ends. Stop thinking about what going to happen next._

_This from a person who thinks nothing of waltzing into a gay bar and snogging half the population._

_Did not._

_Did not what?_

_Snog half the population._

_Is there even a difference?_

Schuldich shrugged. _Maybe._

_What do we do… Is there even a future for us?_

_Something will crop up, I'm sure. Now stop worrying._

_Do you really believe that?_

_I _know_ that. Something always crops up. _

David Crawford sat on the bed in the master bedroom. He fingered his wallet and flipped it open. A picture of his family beamed out at him as he dug a finger behind the photograph.

He drew out a small faded picture of a brown-haired young boy with piercing eyes. Brad, ten years ago.

_What have you seen with those eyes, my little boy? Only anguish and pain, o my father._

He had seen a certain guardedness in those red-brown eyes. A slight hesitancy in his voice. Maybe even ironic sadness playing across his smiling features.

David Crawford had seen it in many men with secrets to keep. But it was not a fearful secret he had to hide, was it? Merely a sorrowful one. Oh yes, his many years as a FBI agent served him well now...

Why couldn't it serve him _then_? Why couldn't he stop them _then?_ He gripped the small square of paper so tightly till it crinkled. How now, the past had come back to haunt him. He couldn't decide which was worse; never having your child come back to you, or having him come back, his face smiling, his eyes hiding _something_.

_What was he hiding?_

"David." He turned. Janice stood at the doorway.

She shut the door behind her and sat down beside him, her head on his shoulder. "Oh _David_!" Janice's voice was thick with emotion.

He wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face into his chest. Her back heaved as she sobbed.

He whispered, "Hush, my dear, I know, I know."

Brad Crawford was standing in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth, when the vision caught him.

Vision time Again

_There was a blast. The acrid stench of explosives mixed in the billowing smoke. His eyes watered. His future self thought: They've got us now._

_Schuldich ran forward and screamed in desperation, "FARFELLO!"_

He opened his eyes and blinked, silent as he gathered his thoughts. So there would be an attack on Schwarz. But when? Where? The smoke had obscured all indication of time and place… He had to warn the rest of the group.

He covered his eyes with his large hands.

They couldn't stay here any longer. Rosenkreuz would track them here.

He looked over to the bed where the telepath was still slumbering, having gone back to sleep.

The stronger mid-morning sunlight shone through the French windows, filling the room with a gentle heat. Brad padded over to the bed.

"Wake up Schu. It's already nine." He shook the redhead, who was bundled in blankets. "Wake up."

There was little effect. He could have been shaking a dead piece of log. He redoubled his efforts. "Schu, if you're not going to wake up, I'm going to let Neil have your share of the breakfast."

The figure remained silent. Brad was getting uneasy. There was something wrong. Flipping the covers, he peered at the curled up redhead. Schuldich was shuddering and sweating, his face once again contorted into an expression of intense fear. Brad laid the back of his hand on the telepath's forehead.

It was freezing cold.

_Not again…Schuldich, tell me what is going on? _Brad tried to project his thoughts as loudly as he could, in hope that the telepath would pick up. No effect. He tried rapping on his head to no avail.

The German arched his back suddenly, tangling further into the sheets. A hand clamped onto the precog's arm, clenched so tightly till his knuckles turned white. Brad winced at the nails digging into his flesh. He frantically tried to slap the telepath into wakefulness, his hand touched the cold cheek—

_The fat man! The fat man! _

_His senses screamed in revulsion. No! Get away!_

_He was in a simple room, his footsteps taking him inexorably towards the bed. He tried to stop his feet, screaming in his dream-mind: "No! No! Stop!"_

_The fat man reclined half-naked on the bed, his enormous form swaddled in fat. His piggish, currant-like little eyes followed him, a genial smile bordering on a leer spread across his wide face._

"_What a pretty little thing you are, little liebe. What's your name?" He did not reply._

_The expression on his face turned ugly. "Are you dumb? Come here!" He patted the bedspread beside him._

_He moved towards the bed, fear clenching in his heart, unable to control himself. _

"_Do you know what they do to naughty little ones like you, hmm?" The huge form leaned close, touching his arm. There was this disorientating sensation as the fat man's thoughts shot through his head._

_Images of …men cavorting with children, ravishing their small limp forms! Vulgar hands crawling over all that innocent flesh!_

_Bile rose in his throat as he wanted to scream! Get away!_

_Thoughts of what adults do, why they 'care' for poor children! Lambs to the slaughter! Rich men, poor children! Gluttony and lust!_

_There was a scream of repulsion as his small dream-form tried to back away. He knew... he _knew_ what they were going to do to him. He knew everything. The fat man's grip on his arm was too strong, too strong. _

_Tugging helplessly, he was drawn closer and closer—_

Pain in Brad's arm screamed into his consciousness, dislodging him from that deeply disturbing… vision? Dream? There was long streaks of blood on his arm, the telepath's nails digging even deeper, clawing. He blinked, was that really a dream?

A wave of pity came over him. He tried to grab the trashing German's head with both hands, forcing his forehead to his. He projected as hard as he could.

_SCHULDICH, WAKE UP! IT'S ONLY A DREAM! WAKE UP!_

He repeated several more times as the struggling lessened. With a small sigh, the redhead relaxed his grip on Brad's arm, dropping limply to the covers.

_Wake up…_

Sleepy green eyes blinked open. _Whazzat going on, hmm?_ Noting the presence of his leader, he blinked some more. _Hmm, wotcha doing here, Braddy?_

"It's time to wake up. Breakfast's ready."

_Oh… Don't wanna…_The telepath flipped over and went back to sleep.

_Schuldich, tell me what is going on. Wake up, don't go back to sleep. Schuldich!_

The telepath was already fast asleep.

Brad shut the door quietly behind him. He stared at the long bloody scratches on his arm and clenched his fist. _Dammit Schuldich! What's going on!_

Was it a dream of the past? Damn telepaths. Brad knew that it had to be something to do with memories. Telepaths… they could never forget the past. That was why the adult ones were so rare; most had been driven mad by tyrannical memories that tormented them day and night. Only those able to control their thoughts could save their sanity.

It was because of this powerful control over self that telepaths could control others. Tamers of their own chaotic mind, they found that others were more simple, more direct, much easier to manipulate.

And yet… there were reports from the field teams in Rosenkreuz about telepaths breaking under the strain of missions, driven into the fearful, gibbering state that was so common in mental patients of sanitarium. It was not surprising to find mind talents cloistered in such places.

Brad felt a slight relief, once again, that they were far from their former masters. Rosenkreuz would have _disposed_ of such talents. Harvested their eggs or sperm and then _dispose_ of them.

_Oh Schu, why do you always bring chaos to my order…? _How was he going to manage a dysfunctional telepath while on the run from an omnipresent organization? The attack was coming, he knew that, but will Schwarz be able to meet it standing?

Kriesten opened her door, surprised to see her adopted brother standing outside his own room. Brad's frown dropped from his face as he looked up. His pale sister raised an eyebrow in question.

"Just having trouble waking Schully up."

She eyed the scratches on his arm. "Not a morning person, I see." She shut her own door and continued down the corridor. "Pulling the sheets out had always worked on Matthias."

Brad gave her retreating figure a quick smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

Schuldich opened his eyes once he heard the door close. He cursed himself, _How could I be so careless?_ And punched his pillow.

Kriesten was sat down at the breakfast table. Her father and brother were already up, sipping coffee and perusing the morning papers.

Farfello gave her a wide smile. "Good morning Mademoiselle Kriesten. You look lovely today."

"Good morning, Fabien."

Farfello passed her the coffeepot. His golden eye strayed to her face. There was no doubt that she was beautiful, with her artic eyes and white blond hair. Her aristocratic features gave her a sharp aloofness that crushed the admiring gazes of admirers underfoot. Oh, but what drew him, so enticingly so, was the keen, deadly intelligence in her eyes. The switchblade mind that could so easily expose his cover, destroy the peace of Schwarz… As her gaze passed over him, he looked away.

Who would think that she was an FBI agent?

She had been coming home late the last few days, her work taking its toil on her features. The faintest of dark lines lined her eyelids.

There was silence at the table, interspaced with the rustling of the papers. Kriesten buttered her toast.

Farfello wondered. How strange it was to not have someone look at you in fear or apprehension. When they met, he had noted that she had none in her eyes. Instead, he felt an ice-cold certainty that she was someone to …to steer clear from.

Farfello knew no fear. But that didn't mean that he was stupid. In actual fact, the mad, ravening act that he put up was more for amusement than to instill fear into poor enemies. He loved to imagine the look on people's faces when they saw a a madman wielding knives and screaming war cries bearing down on them. He gave a snort.

"Ah yes, Fabien, do you want go to church today?" The Irishman's eye froze on Kriesten's face.

"Church…?"

"I know you're atheist, but, why not come along. For the experience."

"Church?"

Matthias looked up from his papers. "Yeah, that's a pretty good idea. Just join the Saturday morning service."

The old Farf would have giggled and foamed at the mouth, but heigh-ho whatddya know, he was Fabien now…His eyes stared at Kriesten searchingly. Was this some kind of mad joke? Not to mention the possibility of …carnage and violence and… the Farf's eyes glazed over in a wistful sort of way. He did miss it all.

He was about to reply when there was a muffled yelp from above and a heavy thump on the ceiling. Farfie looked up in surprise.

Kriesten did not smile as she took a bite of her toast. "Nice to see that someone around here listens to my advice."

She continued, "I usually go to service on Saturday because I work Sundays. I teach bible classes for the younger kids. You should go."

"Why…?"

She looked at him, humoured. "You can meet most of our neighbours there. They're all interested in our new relatives. Oh yes, there's a Mr. Kurosaki who just moved in, three houses down. He wants to meet people who speak his language. He goes to church to help out every Saturday. It a place for socializing."

She looked at her watch and exclaimed. "We're going to be late!" Without waiting for a reply, she hauled the Irishman from his seat. Farfello let himself be dragged along.

"Let's go!"

The Frenchman Fabien grinned.

Author's notes:

Imagine this.

An image of Brad, standing like a matador, sheets billowing.

Then an image of Schuldich, on the floor, murder on his mind.

Nagi nodded. "So we have to move."

"We're packing and moving today. The attack will come very soon. We'll move Jason once night falls." Brad stood behind his chair.

"A pity. I was just getting used to this place."

A rumpled Schuldich pushed open the door. _I'm going down for breakfast._

_Schuldich, we're moving today. Pack your things in two hours._

The telepath turned to look at him, incredulous. _But we just got here!_

_Rosenkreuz is going to attack any moment._ An angry scowl appeared on the redhead's face.

_I can't take this without my breakfast._ He stumped down the staircase.

"Rent an apartment downtown, preferably close to any influential person. That'll keep them from planting anything explosive. "

Nagi scanned the net and began pressing buttons on his cell phone.

A telepathic voice rang in Brad's and Nagi's heads._ Houston, we have a major major problem._

_Schuldich, we just topped up the larder with banana nut crunch cereal. Don't tell me you ate all that already?_ Nagi sighed. _Why do you have fetishes on disgusting and disgustingly hard to find foods?_

_I wasn't going to say that._ Snapped the telepath, mental tone surly. _I really and truly think that we are in a crisis, right now! I'm talking real, serious and deep deep shit!_

_Let me guess, you ran out of hair conditioner._ Added Brad dryly.

_NO! _There was a pause._ I will say this as slowly and clearly as I can so that you two idiots get the message. No interruptions. _

_Fine._

_We. Seem. To. Have. Run. Out. Of. Farfello._

_What's new—WHAT! Farfello?_

_My initial sentiment exactly. Our resident Berserker has scooted, missing in action, left the building, ka-poof! And it gets worse._

_He took all the knives?_

_Of course not._

_Thank goodness._

_He took quite a few spoons._

There was a thoughtful pause._ Well, that isn't so bad._

_Your incredibly insightful sister is trying to convert him and has spirited him off to church._

…

…

_WTF?_

_I'm glad you put the point rather succinctly._

Brad dashed out of the room, but not before shouting to Nagi, "You stay here and get our things ready to go! I will go get him!"

"Aye aye captain!"

_Need any help there, o great leader?_

_I'll predict any trouble before it happens, go scout for a new hideout for us, somewhere in the downtown area._

_Oh goody, a shopping trip!_

Brad dashed noisily down the stairs. "Mom! I need to borrow the car!"

"No can do, dearie, your father took it to work already." The matron replied as she sipped her tea. "Call a cab if you need to go anywhere."

_Brad, I already commandeered one. It's on the way here right now. _

"What's the rush? Is something wrong?"

"Which church did Kreisten take Far- Fabien to?"

"It's called Marymouth Methodist… On the south side. Kreisten teaches the street kids there. What's going on?"

"Uh, Fabien forgot his inhaler and he's asthmatic."

"Oh my…"

The bright morning light beamed joyously down on David Crawford's office windows. Or, at least they tried to beam, their cheery effect staunchly warded off by the tinted office windows. The FBI headquarters was far from the city, perched like an impenetrable citadel, slate grey walls resolute. There was a silence, interspersed by the arrhythmic creaking of a leather chair.

There was a sigh.

David Crawford stared puzzled at the new report on his table. It was the report on the latest strike against weapons dealers in Washington. It failed, one of the mysteries it held. It wasn't even a gigantic mystery. Strikes failed on a regular basis, according to the workings of Murphy's Law.

But he was in a conundrum about another teensy, little detail. Details were the harbingers of … things. He frowned and read through it one more time:

Time of Commencement: 2100 h

Time of Completion: 2130 h

His eyes flickered down the page, past details of the operation. His eyes stopped at the line, "… the strike team searched the premises and it was empty…"

"…exited five minutes after entry…"

"…burning cassettes were found in the security room…"

"…no weapons stock discovered…"

He frowned. _So if the troops exited five minutes after entry, the entire operation would have taken only five minutes. So where did the twenty-five minutes go?_ He read further:

"…Sgt. Jack Donaldson discovered a bullet in his helmet but does not recall…"

"…no shots were discharged…"

The helmets of the strike team were made of bulletproof metal. In order for a shot to be _embedded_ in one of the helmets required use of a very powerful gun. So _who_ shot the sergeant?

Who shot the sheriff?

A time lapse and a lapse of memory… How can there be a time lapse and a missing memory when there were evidences of a shot fired _in that time_? Unless the troops were keeping something from him… Someone couldn't just make that memory magically disappear, could they? No one could have brainwashed the entire strike team in twenty minutes.

He put the report down and scowled at his table, deep in thought.

Then he realized what he was looking at. He languidly picked up another manila folder and flipped through the pages. It was that crazy report again, the one about some top assassin team with mental powers immigrating to America. He paused. _Mental powers?_

He chuckled as he read, there was that amusing line; "…telekinetic, _telepathic_ and precognitive…" A small siren sounded at the back of his mind as something clicked.

_Memory loss… Telepathy… Weapons supplier… Assassins?_

His immediately dismissed it as a ridiculous jump to an illogical conclusion. Telepaths and what-nots did not exist! They were merely charlatans and con artists hungering for some media attention!

And who wrote that stupid report anyway?

He took note of the name and informed his secretary that the agent was due for a personal appointment. With him.

His secretary sighed and wished the poor soul much, much luck.

Twenty minutes later there came a knock on the door and a nervous young man hurried into the room. David could have run a hand across his features and looked to the ceiling for solace. He could have known that the specimen standing in front of his desk belonged to a different species altogether.

The young man wore huge owl glasses, making his eyes look enormous. Instead of the clean-cut, no nonsense agent look, he was dressed rather shabbily in jeans and a collared white shirt. Just like some UFO fanatic who holes himself in the attic, reading too many books.

_Remind me again why we have such people in our organization? Oh yes, because they are walking analytical machines with no social capability whatsoever._

David Crawford forced a smile onto his face. "Agent Campbell."

"Yes sir?" The poor boy couldn't even throw a proper salute.

"I have here a report, done by you, on a group of assassins with mental abilities entering America."

"Yes sir."

"_Why_?"

"Sir?"

"_Why_ is there a report on, on _this,_ on my table? Are you saying that people with special mental abilities exist?"

The boy grinned, "Oh yes, absolutely sir!" There was a sharp silence as David digested this answer. He spoke carefully.

"And I suppose we have an entire section of the FBI dedicated to them?"

"Undoubtedly, sir."

"And a research facility using disgraceful amounts of government money?"

The agent winced. "Yes, sir."

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"It was on a need-to-know basis, sir."

"You people _need_ to tell me such things. I'm supposed to _know_ everything there is about this agency!"

"It is top secret, sir"

"And I am a man who knows every single damn top secret this country has to offer!" The agent winced again but did not say anything. He waited for his superior to calm down.

David placed his hands on the table. "So, you say that these people exist? What proof do we have? What can you show me, to make me believe that such people exist?"

"Well, sir, I could show you the facility."

"I don't have time for that. Can you show me one person with any of these claimed capabilities?"

Campbell looked surprised. "I can show you, sir."

"You?"

"I am a pyrokinetic, sir."

"Pyrokinetic?"

The agent patiently explained. "A person who can set things on fire."

"With your mind?"

"Yes sir. Do you have any scrap paper sir?" David rummaged in his dustbin and placed a crushed ball of paper in the cigarette tray."

"Shoot." Campbell stood away from the table and glared at the ball of paper as if it were his sworn enemy. Nothing happened.

He scowled even harder. David could see the strain in his face, but doubted that anything else than an embarrassing moment would result.

With a shout of _Dammit! Burn already!_ The ball of paper suddenly glowed a furious red and vaporized in a small puff of ash.

David's jaw dropped in shock.

The agent mopped his brow. It had taken a lot of effort.

"I'm sorry sir, I'm not a particularly gifted pyrokinetic."

David closed his mouth. He sat back in his chair, stunned. "Amazing…" He looked at Campbell. "Do you know the implications of this? We…we could have these people in our forces! They'll bring every criminal and terrorist empire to its knees!"

"But there would be an abuse of power to use such people against others, sir, it would make people aware of such talents, which would result in destructive discrimination of the talent!" Campbell argued.

"Politics would revolve around the number of talents each country has, just like nuclear warheads. These people would be absolutely untraceable if they were used as spies and soldiers. Sir."

"So you're saying, if an organization controls an army of such talents, they would have a good shot at world domination?"

"They would be able to control any politician in the world today, sir. They wouldn't need an army."

David Crawford was silent. This was the biggest secret that the US government could keep. No wonder he hadn't known about it.

"So the reason this report is given top priority and is on my desk right now, is that there _is_ an organization with an army like that.

"And part of that army is now in _America_?"

"Not any part of the army, sir, the most powerful part of the army that the organization Rosenkreuz has gathered."

"Schwarz?"

"Yes sir."

David Crawford ran a hand over his eyes. "Do you know if there is a link between the Rosenkreuz talents and the recent failed strike against this weapons dealer?"

"We suspect that the assassin group might be gathering arms to strike against the government."

_Oh gods. As if we need another conspiracy on our hands…_

"Take me on a tour of this … research facility."

"As you say, sir."

"Today."

"Sir"

As agent Campbell walked out of his superior's office, the secretary looked surprised.

"You're still alive?"

"Uh, yes?"

"That's strange."

Schuldich checked on Jason as she headed out of the house, pausing on the lawn, where the pseudo-bomb shelter lay. _Hey kid, you still alive in there?_

He saw the gunsmith jerk violently in his mind's eye. "Mastermind?"

_Call me Schully, my dear. _

Jason, unused to telepathic conversations, spoke aloud in his underground safe room as the redhead listened to his mind. "Oh er. How's things going?"

_A bit of trouble. We'll be moving soon._

"Again? But we just got here."

_My sentiments exactly. But that's the way things are. _He gave a telepathic shrug. _We'll get you out of there in no time. Did Nagi bring you breakfast like I told him to?_

"He gave me a freaking heart attack when the breakfast tray floated in like that!"

_He has his faults, but he is still such a keee-ute little boy, aren't you Nagikins?_

Nagi's amused reply was heard in their minds, _Don't push your luck, 'Schully-chan.'_

_You're just jealous that I got the cuter name, aren't you?_

_Thank god I didn't. Hello Jason, how was breakfast?_

The gunsmith gave an unseen smile. "Yeah, it was great, thanks."

_You're welcome anytime._

_Well, then, since everything is hot and toasty, _he clasped his hands together warmly, _let's get down to business. Gunmaker gunmaker make me a gun._

"Gee, Schully, you're such a great poet."

_Oh shut up, give me a damn gun before I serenade you._

"Yes sir!"


End file.
